


Nor a Roof Against the Rain

by Rysler



Category: Guiding Light
Genre: Adopted Children, Also Jonathan Randall is in Iron Fist now which is nice for him, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Children, Cussing, Dildos, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Lesbian Character of Color, Lesbian Sex, Post-Canon, Post-Finale, San Cristobel, Slurs, Very reliant on 30 years of Guiding Light canon, Which is all on Youtube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 13:59:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10923255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rysler/pseuds/Rysler
Summary: Jonathan Randall is kidnapped to San Cristobel."You take what you want when you want. Nobody gets in your way. Nobody or nothing. I'm like that too, you know. That's how we survive. It's what we thrive on. Don't forget who you are, Jonathan. Don't let anyone else forget, either." - Olivia Spencer





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Rysler's brand of Natalia's Dark Past is exposed, and it is sad. 
> 
> Originally written in 2011. This is a sequel to "A Difficult Hour," available at AO3. But it's not necessary to read it first. 
> 
> There's a crucial YouTube clip that sets up this story. It can be found at: 2005-12-02 - Olivia - Guiding Light

"You take what you want when you want. Nobody gets in your way. Nobody or nothing. I'm like that too, you know. That's how we survive. It's what we thrive on. Don't forget who you are, Jonathan. Don't let anyone else forget, either." - Olivia Spencer

Prologue

February 2011

Jonathan wasn't with his daughter when they grabbed him. He was grateful they had waited until he'd left Bill's before putting the canvas bag over his head and tying his hands. He was grateful that they didn't beat him, or drug him, or laugh at him too much when he wet his pants or cried out the second day when the hunger pains really got to him behind the mask. He was grateful for the soothing jet noise and then the smell of the ocean, and for the new, and therefore exciting, texture of stone against his back when they threw him into an underground cell.

A dungeon.

They gave him food and clothes and a basin and when he could see again he took it all in. He kicked the basin over. He threw the food out the bars. And he screamed and screamed because he didn't want this to be his new life. 

When he was hoarse from screaming he looked around again and found the note.

Make yourself comfortable. We'll explain everything shortly.

* * * 

Chapter One

Buzz pulled Olivia away from her lunch at Company and into the back room. Focused on her lasagna, lying alone and unguarded out there, she didn't hear the question until he repeated himself a second time.

"Do I what?" she asked.

"Do you know how to get in contact with Reva and Josh?"

"What? No."

"No email? Forwarding address? A place to send bills or your screeds of rage?"

"Buzz, they have an accountant. Why are you asking me all this?"

Buzz took her by the arm. She tried to look away from the stove and the crisping bacon and concentrate on his face. His expression was hard. His eyes had too much worry in them. He was hesitating.

She freed her arm. "Buzz. Stop scaring me. Come on. I'm a big girl."

"It's your damn nephew. Lizzie went to check on him and--we think he's been kidnapped."

* * * 

The ransom demands came the next day by airmail, postmarked San Cristobel. The messages from Josh followed. Cancer returned. There was nothing they could do, not right now. Send word to Cross Creek. 

Alan was dead. Jeffrey was gone. Cassie--

Olivia thought of Colin and Sarah and RJ while she held Francesca in her arms, sitting on her porch at the farmhouse. They'd all wanted new lives. They'd come so close to getting them. So close to doing right by their children. 

Francesca squirmed. Olivia set her down and she ran across the lawn. Olivia stood, ready to chase her. But there was no traffic, not here. And Francesca was finally too big to get picked up by a hawk.

Natalia appeared on the doorstep. "I got a call from Frank."

Olivia nodded.

"Poor Jonathan. I'm praying--"

"I'm going to San Cristobel."

Natalia bit her lip and watched Francesca pull up handfuls of grass. She took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll get tickets and--"

"No, I'm going. You're staying here." Olivia tried to hold Natalia's gaze. Tried to look steely.

"Olivia."

"Someone's got to take care of the children." Olivia tried.

"We'll make arrangements."

"And the business--"

Natalia grabbed Olivia's elbow and yanked her forward. Olivia's lines softened. Natalia loosened her grip.

"You can't. It's dangerous."

"I don't care if it's dangerous," Natalia said. 

"It's not your fight."

"Why not? Because I came to Springfield too late? After Prince Winslow died? Because I read about Edmund drowning in the paper? I live in Springfield, Olivia. With you."

"Natalia, please." Olivia felt a headache forming. That almost always meant she wasn't going to get her way.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere without me. Ever."

Olivia raised her eyebrows.

Natalia lifted herself onto the balls of her feet. "Not to the bank."

"Now that's just creepy."

Natalia smiled. "I've always wanted to see San Cristobel."

"There are parts of San Cristobel I don't want you to see."

"Tough shit," Natalia said.

Olivia raised her eyebrows, but Natalia held her gaze. Held her ground. Olivia shrugged, pushing past her, stomping inside. "Fine. Make arrangements. You're good at that."

"You're right, I am."

Natalia looked at the doorway, and then stepped out onto the lawn. Francesca wobbled toward her, a smile brightening on her face. Natalia scooped her child into her arms. The doorway stood empty. 

Natalia said, "Let me take care of you."

* * * 

Rafe crossed his arms, trying not to let his discomfort show as he surveyed the kitchen from his place at the table. No matter what Natalia and Olivia tried to do, this wasn't his home. His home was with his mother, alone. Other people would always be an intrusion. He could have stayed with Frank, but it was no longer Frank and him, alone. It was Frank and Blake and sometimes the baby. Not his anymore.

His mother wanted him here. He could have gone anywhere for his leave. Florida or Japan or Chicago. But he was here. 

With his family.

Olivia looked like she was somewhere else.

"We're having white pizza," Emma said, setting a plate down in front of him.

"I know. I watched you make it."

"But you don't know my secret ingredient."

"What is it?" Rafe leaned forward.

Emma smiled. "Love."

Rafe laughed. He caught his mother looking in his direction. He winked.

She smiled.

Then Olivia sat down across from him and ate some pizza and told him some bullshit about San Cristobel. And Jonathan Randall, the punk who'd fucked Tammy Winslow and Lizzie Spaulding, of all the gross and crazy people, and faked his death like, a dozen times and was far worse than Rafe ever been. His anger rose like a wave, unannounced, unplanned for, like any other wave. It would dissipate just as quickly, but not until it crested. 

"Rafe--" Natalia started. 

"No." He pointed at Olivia. "I'm her son. Her only son. Not Jonathan Randall. He's Reva's son. You know, Reva? And he's got a worse reputation than I do. No." He wiped his face.

Olivia said, "Just because he's had a hard life doesn't mean--"

"No!" Rafe shouted. "Don't even go there. You want to go there? He had a hard life? I had a hard life. You made me--Why would you leave? For him? Some giant hairy guy calls you 'Auntie' as some kind of sick joke and you're going to leave your whole family? He’s not yours."

"Rafe--"

He turned and stormed out. His footsteps pounded on the staircase.

Emma looked from Olivia to Natalia. Then she turned and followed Rafe. 

Olivia shrugged. "If you'd told me a year ago..."

"He has a point."

"Jonathan is my responsibility."

Natalia exhaled. "No, not that. I mean, a wider point. Rafe's always had me, but he's had most other people go in and out of his life."

"We all have."

Natalia nodded. "But it always hurts, doesn't it?"

Olivia rubbed her cheek.

Natalia took Olivia's hand on the table. "You think it's natural, being a good mother. Taking care of your children. Dealing with their difficulties with as much patience as their energy and their joy. Jonathan or Rafe or whatever little lost soul that comes along. You don't know what it's like--"

"Not wanting them? Ava--Hell, even Jonathan, I abandoned."

Natalia shook her head. "I'm talking about your life now. Who you've become."

Olivia lifted Natalia's hand hand to her lips, and then looked at her intently. 

Natalia smiled. "Rafe's grandparents never really got to know him--or love him."

"Alan? Sure he did."

Natalia squeezed Olivia's fingers.

"Jonathan needs me."

"I know that. Rafe knows that. But he needs you too. He's afraid if you go, he'll lose you."

"Are you afraid, too?"

"Yes."

"That's why you're coming with me. And--" Olivia hesitated. 

"What?"

"We'll bring the jerk with us, too."

"No. You are not bringing Rafe into this. You said it would be dangerous."

"He needs to see San Cristobel. It's in his blood. He’s not that much younger than Jonathan, anyway."

"In his blood? Since when?"

Olivia kissed Natalia's knuckles, and then kissed the gold band on Natalia's finger.

"You are not funny."

"I want him with us."

Natalia shook her head.

Olivia stood and took Natalia's free hand and pulled her up. 

"Stay. Forget all this. Let the police handle it." Natalia held her hands, and curled her lip, like she wanted to say something.

"I can't. Natalia, I wish I could. You don't know how much."

But Natalia held her hands tighter. "You look. Look around you. Is this not enough? You want to turn your back on this? We worked so hard for this. And--I don’t want to lose it, not again."

Olivia closed her eyes. The farmhouse, though, showed itself in her mind. The table where she had dinner with her family. The stove. The taste of tomato sauce on her tongue. She opened her eyes. 

Natalia stood in front of her and held her hands.

"This is what I want," Olivia said. "Everything leads to this. But if I don't--if I don't go and fix everything--then this isn't real. I'll be thinking about that. It won't be pure."

"Olivia."

Olivia exhaled.

Natalia let one of her hands go and cupped her cheek. "Of all the people. Who cares if it isn't pure?"

"You can't honestly stand there and say--"

"I can try. Olivia. Stay."

Olivia let herself be led out of the kitchen and up the stairs, to their bedroom, where she slept tangled up in Natalia night after night. She let Natalia tug her shirt over her head and watched as Natalia did the same. And then Natalia pushed down her pants. Olivia stepped out of them mechanically. But when Natalia reached for her bra, Olivia stopped her.

"Olivia."

Olivia shook her head.

"You're not thinking of them now, are you?"

"No. You know I'm thinking of you."

Natalia unfastened her own bra and let it drop to the floor. Olivia would be the one to pick it up in the morning and throw it in the hamper. She was the one that kept their bedroom idyllic. Natalia followed with her panties, and stood naked before her. Olivia wanted to cover her up. 

She took Natalia's hands and didn't protest when Natalia pulled her onto the bed. But she said, "If I ignore this now, it will come back later. It will become bigger and I won't have a part in it. I won't have any control in it. And it will come through our door and tear up our home and it will hurt you."

Natalia tugged Olivia on top of her.

Olivia smoothed hair out of Natalia's face. "Don't you understand?"

"I don't want to."

"I love Jon. There have been moments in my life when he was all I had. Him and a drink and nothing else. I know Reva feels the same way. And he grew up--it's my fault that--"

"Olivia. It's not your fault. You know that."

Olivia met her gaze. "I couldn't help him then. I can now. You made me strong enough."

Natalia shook her head. 

Olivia trailed her fingertips across her jaw.

"Not tonight," Natalia said. "Stay, tonight."

Olivia touched Natalia's ear and then bent down, slowly, unwilling to be anything but tender as she kissed the corner of Natalia's mouth. Natalia twisted underneath her and kissed her lips. She unclasped Olivia's bra and this time Olivia didn't protest. She pushed herself up on her hands and let Natalia slide the straps down. Then she freed herself. Natalia brought Olivia back into her arms, skin to skin. 

"I need you," Natalia said.

"I know."

"Here, with me. In our home."

Olivia thumbed Natalia's cheek. "We're on the same page."

"Are we?"

"Always." 

Natalia arched into her, revealing her want, pulling Olivia against her.

Olivia kissed her neck. "You're all I'll ever need."

Natalia tangled her fingers in Olivia's hair and brought her close for a kiss. When Olivia tried to slide lower, Natalia stopped her. "Stay here."

"Okay." Olivia met her eyes.

Natalia smiled. She cupped the side of Olivia's face. She waited until Olivia smiled back, shyly, and then lifted her hips into Olivia's.

"You're so beautiful," Olivia said. "You make my heart race. All the time."

"You make my heart break," Natalia said. But she was smiling, holding Olivia's gaze.

Olivia bent down to kiss her mouth, but Natalia turned away and laughed. "Don't think you can distract me from what your hand is doing."

Olivia's hand paused in its course down Natalia's side. 

Natalia lifted a knee. "And don't stop."

Olivia's weight was on her other elbow, but she shifted, cupping the back of Natalia's neck, lifting her gently for a kiss as her hand slid to its destination. 

"Don't stop," Natalia whispered against her lips.

"Never."

Olivia watched her, watched over her, her body between Natalia and the world, trying to drown in Natalia's gaze the way Natalia wanted her to. And it was almost possible, as Natalia's lids dropped, as she dissolved under Olivia's fingers, to join her. To believe there was nothing else in the world but the dark eyes in front of her, the love pressed against her face in a series of kisses. But she wanted it to last, the way nothing had ever lasted for her before.

Natalia understood her, despite her protests, despite whatever she would pray for. Olivia let herself be coaxed onto her back, let Natalia's lips find her, as wet and wanting as Natalia had been. And she let herself cry, covering her face with her hands, wracking with sobs as Natalia unraveled her, strand by strand at first and then all at once, in a rush. 

She didn't want to leave.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 

"Can I have a highball?" Olivia asked the stewardess.

Natalia covered Olivia's hand and pressed.

"A virgin highball, I meant?"

"Ginger ale?" The stewardess asked.

Olivia scowled.

Natalia smiled. "Two please."

The stewardess served them and moved up a row, where Rafe was sitting, still squirming in his first class seat. "You, sir?"

"Rum and diet coke."

Natalia coughed.

Rafe looked diagonally back at her and sighed. "Just the diet coke."

"I was going to ask for your ID anyway," the stewardess said, handing him a plastic cup.

Rafe grinned and flashed his military ID.

The stewardess smiled back and moved down the row.

Natalia shook her head. "You two."

"I'm thirsty," Olivia said.

"You've got a chronic condition. And you," Natalia said to Rafe.

"It's not our fault you pick up broken mutts," Olivia said. 

"Speak for yourself, I'm a Spaulding." Rafe said.

"Then you can inherit his money instead," Olivia said.

Rafe folded his arms. "I did. Speaking of, why aren't we just...flying chartered?"

"Lowers suspicion."

Natalia asked, "First class flight to Puerto Rico lowers suspicion?"

"They still think we're in Springfield. We'll have a day's lead. And even if they figure it out, they'll just assume we're visiting your abuela."

Natalia snorted.

"I like to surprise people," Olivia said.

Rafe snorted.

Olivia leaned past Natalia to see him. "You're just lucky you have a passport, felon."

A few business passengers glanced warily at Olivia.

She smiled, and said loudly, "Pot bust."

"Yeah," Rafe said. "Not like attempted murder or anything."

Natalia lifted her finger at Rafe. 

He leaned back in his seat.

Olivia glanced out her window.

"I've never flown before," Natalia said.

"Ever?"

Rafe said, "I hadn't either until the Army."

"What am I going to do with you guys? Never went back to the island? Had a summer job as a fortune teller?"

"Puerto Rico? I've never seen it."

"But your accent."

"Wasn't it cute?"

Olivia pursed her lips.

"I can do one too," Rafe said.

"I'm sure Ricky Ricardo's voice opens a lot of doors for you, Rafe," Olivia said.

Rafe twisted his hand upward.

The engines got louder. 

"Should I be scared?" Natalia asked.

Olivia dug into her shirt pocket and pulled out a tube. "Xanax?"

"You brought Xanax?"

"And Valium."

Natalia sighed and closed her eyes. The ginger ale arrived. She took a sip.

Rafe leaned over the aisle. "Olivia's going to get us all arrested."

"Just for a change of pace," Olivia said.

"Please don't tell me that's your big plan. Getting thrown into the same cell as Jonathan Randall."

"That's not my big plan."

"I don't believe her," Rafe said. "She doesn't have a plan."

"Drink your soda," Natalia said, tightening her grip on Olivia's hand.

"Yes, mom," Rafe and Olivia chorused together.

* * *

Back in Chicago, they had chatted and teased Rafe until he crouched in a corner to make phone calls. Then after the ginger ale, Olivia slept while Natalia watched a movie. An R-rated movie, even cut up and censored for the airline, that was satisfyingly adult and riveting after months of Disney. Every so often she checked on Rafe, who had his headphones in and appeared to be sleeping.

He'd taken a Xanax after Olivia had regaled him with tales of the ocean. The vast, unconquerable ocean. 

Natalia sighed and adjusted the volume. She could barely hear Nicolas Cage over her own roaring thoughts. 

She knew more about Jonathan Randall than Rafe did, but she sympathized with Rafe’s general impression. Jonathan had a sleazy air to him. Like the guys she'd known in Chicago. He worked construction now, off and on, he’d once sold drugs, he’d been arrested. He was neither a Spaulding nor a Lewis--but then, he carried a psuedo-Spencer name. Even Ava didn’t. 

He came to be born under some strange kidnapping scheme Olivia had tried not-very-hard to explain. He was what bonded Olivia to Reva, and he was one of Ava’s best friends and--Natalia squeezed the bridge of her nose. She slapped the tiny TV screen. Nicholas Cage flickered. 

Olivia saw Jonathan as some Moses in a basket. She indulged him.

Like she indulged all her bad habits.

Jonathan was part of the saga that kept Olivia in Springfield, when she could be anywhere else in the world. He was from the days of Olivia’s marriage to Bill Lewis and from the days of the Winslows. 

He was part of the reason she wouldn’t leave.

Him and his daughter, some oath to Cassie Lewis, whom Natalia had never even met. Ghosts from Olivia’s past life were everywhere. In the walls of the Beacon. Before the new heart. Before the new chance.

Natalia sighed. She was just as jealous as her son. 

She sensed Rafe shifting and glanced in his direction. He yawned, then turned his head to look at her. When he saw her looking back, he smiled. Then glanced at Olivia. 

"She’s sound asleep," Natalia whispered.

Rafe nodded, glassy-eyed. He crossed himself and then kissed his knuckles and winked.

"Are you praying for her?" Natalia asked.

Rafe shook his head. "For you, Ma. It’s always for you." 

She reached across the aisle and stroked his cheek. He smiled, then adjusted his headphones and closed his eyes. She shifted to study Olivia. The smooth skin, the jaw and eyes slack with sleep. Natalia caressed her face. Olivia seemed so young. So close to angelic. Natalia felt the ache of love in her chest that came whenever she got to see Olivia like this. Still and peaceful and hers alone. 

All was right with the world. 

Natalia kissed Olivia's cheek. "I love you," she whispered.

"'m awake," Olivia said.

Olivia's lips were parted and her eyes were still closed as she curled up against the porthole.

"Oh, really," Natalia said. "What day is it?"

Olivia murmured and dampened her lips.

"Who's the president?"

"Sarkozy."

"Of the United States."

Olivia yawned. "If this is a civics test, I didn't study."

"Yeah, you're awake." 

Olivia shoved up the window shade. Early morning sunlight flooded their row. People complained.

Natalia reached past her and shut it again.

Olivia asked, "What are you watching?"

"It's wonderful."

"Is that..." Olivia winced at the explosion on the tiny screen.

"You made me miss it."

"You can rewind."

"Technology is amazing. First class is amazing. Thank you."

"You booked the tickets."

Natalia smiled.

Olivia said, "I want a drink."

"How about breakfast?"

Olivia squinted.

"A Bloody Mary is not a breakfast."

"It has vegetables." 

Natalia smiled and shook her head. "So, explain to me again."

Olivia groaned.

"Jonathan was married to Lizzie. And Bill is married to Lizzie. And Bill was married to Ava. And you--"

Olivia caught Natalia’s hand and squeezed. "Yes, and Cassie was married to Richard and Edmund. And Josh! It’s a twisted little town and I will pay you whatever you want so that we don’t have to talk about it right now."

Natalia grinned.

Olivia kissed her.

"That’s much better," Natalia said. 

Olivia looked past Natalia at Rafe. Even half--asleep, he looked indolent in his white shirt, open at the neck, and perfectly pressed khakis. His dark curls had grown out nearly an inch. Olivia said, "He looks like an Arabian prince."

Natalia glanced at her son. "A prince. More than Jonathan Randall?"

"Oh, any day of the week."

Natalia smiled. Then she sobered. "You're not--"

"I would never risk Rafe's life. Not for Jonathan's. Or anyone." Olivia hesitated. "Except yours. No question."

"And Emma and Francesca?"

Olivia met Natalia's gaze in the semi--darkness. "If they go down, we go down with them. Us and the sultan here."

Natalia smiled.

Olivia leaned in until her forehead pressed Natalia's.

Natalia kissed her, and said, "Everything's going to be all right."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The flight from Puerto Rico to San Cristobel was shorter than the flight from Chicago and on a Cessna the size of Alan Spaulding's Cadillac. Olivia stared out at the ocean. As did Rafe. Natalia envied him being stoned. She'd moved up to the co-pilot's chair and demanded the pilot tell her everything from altitude controls to the legends of local pirates. Anything not to throw up. 

She'd interrogated him on his personal life. His name was Robert, which he said with flair and accent, neither French nor Spanish. She'd rolled it around in her mouth and he'd laughed. He had five kids. On two different islands. He didn't much like San Cristobel. He wouldn't tell her why. Not with Olivia Spencer in his personal space. 

Then they were landing and that was worse. She clung to Olivia and prayed. Olivia, for once, didn't taunt anyone, just let the pilot concentrate until they were rolling up the tarmac.

"The Royal Palace," Robert said. "All yours." 

"You landed at the palace airstrip?" Natalia asked. 

"It's where I'm used to landing." Robert shrugged. 

"Did you steal Winslow's crown jewels to get us in?" Rafe asked.

"The one thing I could never get," Olivia said.

Robert lowered the steps. 

Olivia ducked out of the plane and then glanced back. "Look the part."

Rafe scowled.

"What?" Natalia asked, glancing between them.

Rafe jumped from the plane and then, glancing around, slung his jacket over his shoulder. 

In the distance, two men exited the palace. They were smiling.

"They look happy to see us," Natalia said.

"I'm sure they have a little idea who I am. A Google search after we filed the flight plan."

"Tax records?" Natalia suggested.

"Maybe. You're right, they'd look locally first."

Rafe had a watchful, wary look on his face, but Natalia kept getting distracted by the smell of the air, all salt and warmth. She could see the ocean, close on her left side, down a long slope, and much further, north, a thin blue line. She wanted to feel sand under her feet. She wanted her son to swim in the perfect, clear water. 

She did not want to listen to whatever dark scheme Olivia had concocted.

"Ms. Spencer," said the shorter, fatter man, with his hands outstretched. "What brings you back to San Cristobel?"

Olivia kissed his cheeks and clasped his hands. "I think you know very well, Altos."

He smiled and asked, "Will you be staying with us?" 

"No, no, at the Sheraton. Altos, this is my partner, Natalia Rivera. Natalia, this is Marcos Altos, the prime minister's chief of staff."

"You know each other?" Natalia asked.

"Not as such. I was settled in Springfield when he got appointed."

"But I was three grades behind her at school." Altos grasped Natalia's hands. "A pleasure. I regret the prime minister is away in Europe. Your partner. So you will be looking at business ventures? Perhaps turning that plot of land into another Beacon?"

Rafe inhaled.

"Perhaps." Olivia smiled and said, "And this is Raphael."

Rafe nodded.

Olivia's gaze traveled to the man beside Altos.

"Oh, yes, of course. I thought you might have known. This is Patrick Thorn, one of our assembly members. We were just having lunch."

"It's three o'clock," Rafe said.

Olivia put her hand on Rafe's arm. "Welcome to San Cristobel. Altos, I would love to speak with you later."

"I will set up an appointment. And please, join us for dinner tonight."

"At the palace?" Natalia asked.

Altos shook his head. "At Pinky's. It's a beach club, at the far end of the tourist strip."

Rafe grinned. "Pinky's."

"Thank you," Olivia said. 

A car pulled up at the far end of the tarmac. Robert nodded at it and picked up their bags. More kissing, more handshakes, and then Olivia was striding toward the car. Rafe grabbed his bag and followed her. 

"Rafe," Natalia said.

He caught the warning in her voice and slowed. "Ma, she's not even carrying her purse."

"The pilot's got it."

"We look like her pack mules."

"Rafe."

He watched as Olivia ducked into the car, and in the shaded back seat, squeezed the bridge of her nose.

"Is she sick?"

"No. No, she's fine." Natalia hesitated. "Stronger than she's ever been. Just play along, Rafe."

Rafe snorted, but he managed to pick up her bag and not to say anything until they were all in the car and the pilot shut the door on them. Then he asked, "What the fuck does this have to do with Jonathan?"

The driver asked, "Would you like to see him now?"

"Yes," Olivia said.

"Too bad. You cannot. I'll take you to your hotel."

"When--"

"Expect a call."

Olivia turned her angry gaze onto Rafe.

He said, "I didn't know the driver was a spy."

Olivia took his hands. "Rafe. Everyone is a spy. The only people you can trust are right here. Excluding the driver. Obviously." She shot him a look.

The driver rolled his eyes.

"So, Ma," Rafe said. 

Olivia nodded.

"And you."

"You may have to, Rafe." She let go of his hands.

He looked out the window, at the bullshit plantations rolling past, at the French villas. He wasn't in Europe. He was on some tiny island. The 'palace' hadn't seemed all that large, just a sprawling mansion. He had one of those himself, if Alan's counted. And Rafe figured Alan's counted just as much as anything else. 

"You should see the embassy," Olivia said. "What a white elephant. Back when everyone was fighting over the islands... "

"Were there pirates?" Natalia asked.

"Still are."

"What am I doing here, Olivia?" Rafe asked.

"You're the one who wanted to come. So you're helping."

"Helping," he glanced at the driver. "Jonathan Randall?"

Olivia shook her head. She touched Natalia's arm. "Helping us."

"Helping you what?"

But Olivia didn't answer, just looked out the opposite window. Natalia, uneasy between them, tucked herself against Olivia's side but kept her gaze on Rafe, her expression as equally searching as his. 

* * * 

"We'll start getting ready for dinner around eight," Olivia said to Rafe, standing in the bedroom doorway. "You're on your own until then."

"Can I go down to the beach? I mean, is it--"

"Safe? Yes. Unless you're suddenly of the royal bloodline." 

"Almost," Rafe said, grinning.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Just don't stray. Keep your cell phone with you."

Rafe waved her off and then headed to the elevator. Their suite was on the 20th floor of the hotel, two rooms winging a great room and a balcony the size of his Army apartment. He could smell the ocean. 

He'd never seen one up close and personal. 

* * * 

Olivia was on the phone, pacing the main room of the suite, so Natalia went onto the balcony. She breathed in the air. Salty and humid. Like all the stories. The view was so beautiful she didn't know that she could ever stop looking at it. And soon Rafe would be on the beach. How her family had left such a place--She didn't want to know how bad it would have to be to mitigate all this. Chicago was tall buildings and no sky. But there had been a beach. There had been water. 

And lighthouses. But never this. 

She breathed deeply. The unsettled feeling didn't go away. Olivia should be out here. For her health, if nothing else.

Jonathan should be at home. But this was his home. San Cristobel. Olivia's home, too. She tried to imagine Olivia here as a small girl. But Olivia eluded her. She couldn't conjure up anything with the sun warming her face and her son--there he was, finally, kicking at the surf. 

If she were going to be any help to Olivia, she had to be sharper than this. Not some wide-eyed girl. 

Her phone buzzed. She dug it out of her purse and then frowned at the display.

"Josh?" she asked, lifting it to her ear.

"Hey, Natalia. How are things?"

"We just landed in San Cristobel an hour ago. They won't let us see Jonathan yet." Natalia frowned and settled into a lawn chair. 

"Will you let me know? Once you do?"

"Of course, Josh. Why did you call me?"

"Olivia's scary," he said.

Natalia shook her head.

"I just--if you have any questions, Natalia. You can ask me anything you want about San Cristobel. Anything at all."

She inhaled sharply. "Like…"

He waited.

She looked away from the ocean, back at Olivia's still-pacing form. "Were you happy here?" she asked.

"Me and Olivia?"

"Yes. Yes, Josh."

She thought of Josh fixing up the farmhouse--his farmhouse, as much as hers--and of Jonathan after him, painting and plumbing. Looking after them in return for beer. Jonathan being sullen and weird, but never unkind. Never. Doing everything Olivia asked, without complaint. 

Unlike Rafe.

Unlike how Jonathan and Olivia got along with most people. 

"Yes," Josh said. "There were moments. Flashes. Of pure bliss. Happiness, Natalia. Especially on the islands. She knew them so well and--"

"And?" she prompted.

"In a way getting to to know San Cristobel with Olivia was a way to get to know Reva, too. I know Olivia wanted it to be our romance, but…"

Natalia snorted. She hadn't meant to, but Josh must have heard it through the phone. "Come on, Natalia, what's on your mind?"

"How can Olivia not be anyone's home? She's just so… I look at her, and I look at everyone else. The choice is so ridiculously easy."

"She's not my soulmate, Natalia. She's yours."

Natalia pressed the phone to her lips.

"But she is one of my best friends. Please, keep her safe. I should be there--I wish I could be there--one of our wacky adventures, but--"

"Don't worry, Josh." She could hear the guilt as it echoed hollowly inside him. 

"Is there anything you need?" he asked.

She leaned forward, onto the balcony railing, and put her chin on her forearm. "I need to know what I'm up against."

"Everything."

She said goodbye and hung up the phone, and frowned. Everything. That didn't help.

* * * 

Rafe came back after an hour at the beach and another two at the pool bar, where he'd been sipping coconut diet tea and talking to everyone who'd give him the time of day. The balcony doors were open, letting in the breeze, but all was quiet. The sun was lower, still casting ocean and sky in shades of blue. His mother's door was cracked. He peeked in. 

They were asleep. Olivia still wore her travel clothes and was burrowed under the covers on her side. She got cold easily. Rafe remembered clasping icy hands in prayer. He'd often found Olivia asleep on the couch in robes and blankets with Emma or Francesca on top of her. 

Natalia had changed into a white shirt. She looked like she'd fallen asleep mid-sentence, mid-"I'm just going to look around the hotel--" She even had her shoes on. She had her arm around Olivia's waist. They looked chaste enough, except that Natalia's breath moved Olivia's hair. 

He didn't picture them like that. 

He'd tried not to picture them at all, but it crept up sometimes, amid wondering why they could be together at all, there was also the how. They were touchy-feely in public, free with their gazes and their hand-holding, had cuddled on the flight, normal-like, but he hadn't translated that into their private lives. He'd figured it was just a sham. He'd always pictured Olivia like a snake curled around a baby mongoose. 

Not so... free. 

Life was not that complicated, Olivia would tell him. 

Life was pretty stupid.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The back room at Pinky's had 18th century portraits of old white men. Some in armored hats. Some that looked effeminate and doughy. None that carried the name Winslow. None that looked like Edmund. Some that looked eerily like Olivia. This event was a standing Thursday dinner party for delegates, their wives, and whatever visiting VIPs were there. The manager of the Sheraton sat across from Altos. The captains of the two cruise ships at port had to eat on board, but some of the entertainers mingled. Two long tables had platters of fish and pork, fruits and rice, and steamed tortillas. 

Natalia eyed the chocolate cake, but dutifully drew conversation from Patrick Thorn, who was in manner as quiet as she was, as she kept an eye on Olivia.

Olivia charmed the Sheraton manager until he comped their suite, and then she turned her sights on the police commissioner.

Rafe ate to stave off boredom. He didn't talk to anyone much at all, though he was aware that he was being watched. It was well after eleven when Altos tapped him on the shoulder. Next to him were two young women. Rafe's age. He grinned.

"Raphael, these are my daughters. They were just about to go to another beach club."

The taller one asked, "Would you like to join us?" 

"Yes." He tossed down his napkin and stood. He glanced at Olivia. "What about--"

"Tomorrow." Olivia gave him a serene smile.

He hadn't forgotten that Jonathan Randall was kidnapped somewhere, probably in crappy circumstances. He should feel guilty about beach parties and naps and good food. 

But Olivia had a plan. Olivia had said to trust her. At this moment, trusting her was easy. 

The two sisters took his arms and led him out.

* * * 

"I thought you were asleep," Olivia said, coming into the suite at two a.m.

Natalia looked up from the computer screen. "I was getting an update from the SPD. It's earlier there."

"And by SPD you mean Frank."

"Well, no one else is any use." Natalia smiled. "I'm surprised to find such a robust internet connection among the 17th century architecture."

"A big selling point five years ago. And the mafia appreciates it too."

Olivia began unwinding her scarf. Natalia got up, reaching for the fabric.

"I can do it," Olivia said. 

"Last one at the bar?" 

"Absolutely."

"Is that a vixen thing?"

"Absolutely."

Natalia shook her head. "Is the commissioner going to help?"

Olivia sat on the bed and took off her heels. "He's going to make life easier. Get Jonathan better food. Maybe even put him in a cell above ground." Olivia took off her watch. 

"Can we see him?"

"Sooner or later, if I have to tear the palace down. I'm talking with Altos in the morning."

"The commissioner could just let Jonathan go."

"He's not the reason for Jon’s kidnapping, he can't make it go away. They'd probably kill him."

Natalia frowned.

"Anyway. The commissioner's daughter's at Amherst. He needs me to make a few calls. Adjust her spending account."

"Why you?"

"He doesn't have the money. Believe it or not. There's not a lot in San Cristobel, and what there is..."

"I'm not sure I do believe it," Natalia said, sitting on the bed.

"Not everyone is rich."

"Maybe I've become too accustomed to the lifestyle."

"I wish." Olivia rubbed her back.

Natalia smiled. 

Olivia twisted. "Could you?"

"Yes." Natalia unzipped Olivia's dress with deliberation and care, unclasping her bra before pushing the dress from her shoulders. 

Olivia sighed and stretched. "I should dress more practically."

Natalia glanced at her own slacks. "I realize it's like, two a.m. and I should be in lingerie--" she laughed as Olivia shivered. "--but I wasn't sure who would come to the door."

"Did anyone?"

"Nope."

"They're still doing background checks. Told you it was good to come early." Olivia got up and folded her dress over a chair. "I'm going to shower." 

* * * 

When Olivia came back into the bedroom, the lights were dim and the television was on. 

Natalia glanced up from the bed and her breath caught. "You look like a vision."

"This old thing?" Olivia's gown and matching robe were amber satin. Her hair, still damp, passed her shoulders. 

Natalia raised her eyebrows.

"Just pretend I'm coming to the door," Olivia said.

"I have."

Olivia slipped into bed beside Natalia, who had changed into a black negligee and had brushed her hair until it gleamed. Olivia asked, "Do you think they know we're in bed together?"

"Oh, they know by now. They probably wonder what we're actually doing in... bed. Together."

"Having movie night?"

Natalia smiled and tossed her the remote.

Olivia squinted at the screen. "What's this? It's in French and... tragic--looking." She changed the channel. "French and ridiculous."

"Change."

Olivia clicked. "Is that... Die Hard?"

"In Spanish."

"What's Bruce saying?"

"Figure it out, senorita." Natalia grinned.

Olivia settled her head on Natalia's shoulder. "They'd never suspect movie night."

"Not in a million years."

Natalia scooted down and Olivia with her until they faced each other, searching each other's eyes in the flickering television light. A calm settled through them, the calm felt in each other's presence and no one else's. Olivia cupped Natalia's cheek. Natalia's expression didn't change, still searching, as she pressed Olivia's hand.

Olivia smiled.

"You jerk," Natalia said. "You know how beautiful you are."

"I know you make me feel that way."

Natalia squeezed Olivia's hand and then traced her nose and her brow.

Olivia pressed her forehead to Natalia's. "I'm happy. Even with everything going on. Is that bad?"

"When is there not something going on? Pain in our lives. We have to... we have to take what we can get."

"We could think of this as our honeymoon."

"Not a homecoming?"

"This isn't the San Cristobel I left."

Natalia said nothing, but looked pensive. Olivia kissed her and then rolled onto her, blocking the television. She waited for the rush of heat that could accompany desire. She could take Natalia any way she wanted. Natalia wouldn't object. But the calm remained. The stillness even her kiss hadn't broken. She kissed Natalia's neck experimentally. Natalia sighed and stroked her hair.

Olivia asked, "Why did we get into bed with clothes on, again?"

"It seemed prudent. At the time."

"I refuse to be prudent."

Natalia smirked and plucked at the strap of Olivia's gown. "It really is beautiful."

"You want to feel it sliding against you?" 

"No. I want you."

Olivia smiled.

"Sliding against me," Natalia clarified.

Olivia resumed kissing Natalia's throat.

"It's nearly three a.m., though..."

"No one in San Cristobel is even awake until noon."

"That's why I could never drag you out of bed."

"That's one reason." Olivia chuckled, letting her teeth graze Natalia's skin. 

Natalia reached around her, drawing the robe from her shoulders.

"Good move," Olivia said.

"Watch this." Natalia nudged Olivia off, onto her back, so she could straddle Olivia's hips and pull the gown down, letting it bunch at her waist.

"Like your present?" Olivia asked.

"I like all my presents," Natalia said. She covered Olivia's shoulders and then stroked downward, over her breasts, to her stomach. 

"I want to--" Olivia's sentence was stopped by Natalia tracing her sides. "I want--" she tried again, but Natalia's lips touched her breast.

"Did you say something?" Natalia asked.

Olivia threaded her fingers through Natalia's hair. Natalia resumed sucking. Olivia was awakening to desire. The slippery mouth, the firm tongue, weren't helping her stay serene. Her nipple hardened. No secrets between them. Olivia closed her eyes.

Natalia's kisses moved to her stomach. At urging, Olivia lifted her hips until the gown was off. Panties remained. 

"These are nice," Natalia said, crouching, playing with the lace.

"Natalia."

Natalia met her gaze. 

The stillness had gone. Olivia took Natalia's hips, urging her to grind down. Wanting to see her naked. Hoping to kiss every inch of fabric and skin. She was usually decisive in action as well as desire. But that only came with not wanting too much. Or wanting one thing. Olivia ran her hands up Natalia's thighs.

Natalia said, "Just so you know, for later, I brought...toys."

Visions filled Olivia's mind. Moving over Natalia, pushing into her. That flicker of urge to take her came back, racing up her spine. She twisted, rolling Natalia with her. She slipped out of her panties. She reached for the negligee. 

"I want you," she said.

Natalia smiled.

"It's our first night in San Cristobel."

Olivia helped Natalia shimmy out of the negligee, and then surrendered to embracing arms, to warmth and kisses against her jaw. Natalia was her only escape from this place. She found Natalia, wet and open, waiting for her. Natalia gasped. They moved together. 

Natalia hooked her leg around Olivia's. "More."

Let them wonder. Olivia pressed inside her, kissing her mouth. The hand around her neck allowed for nothing else, and stopped her thinking entirely.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Five months ago...

"Liv," Jonathan chided her. "You're almost as bad at this game as I am."

"I am not. I am a master. A master--chess person."

He waved a white pawn at her black rook, exposed and defenseless.

She made a sad face.

He snatched the rook, then lined it up with the other black pieces on his side of the kitchen table.

Olivia glanced at Francesca, bouncing in her swing in the doorway.

"She's not going to help you," Jonathan said. He grinned.

"Maybe if I distract you, she'll eat your pieces."

"Good in the short term. But in the long term?"

"Aren't we supposed to live in the now?"

"Definitely. At least not in the yesterday. That shit's meaningless."

"I keep telling myself that." Olivia nudged her bishop, starting a three-move rampage that took advantage of Jonathan's blunder into rook territory to take control back.

"Damnit," Jonathan said.

"That's how you do it." Olivia hit the table.

Francesca began to wail.

"Haha. See what you did."

Olivia rolled her eyes, but got up and scooped Francesca out of her chair. Jonathan stood.

"Beer, Jon?" 

He shot his finger at her and went to the fridge.

She bounced Francesca, still wailing, but now also pulling her hair, onto the porch. Fall had settled over Springfield, and one thunderstorm had nearly halved its season. Orange and yellow leaves scattered the ground. Half-naked trees gauntly lined the lawn. 

But it was still warm. Olivia settled onto the porch bench and kept Francesca in her arms. Francesca breathed in. Quieted. 

Jonathan offered Olivia a beer, bottle cap off. "Let's switch."

Francesca stood on Jonathan's lap and pulled at his hair. 

Olivia smiled.

"We can't even play chess without messing it up," Jonathan said.

"To be fair, we haven't finished. Maybe one of us will figure out the rules."

"Maybe. Olivia?"

"Hm?" She sipped the beer.

"Do you think if our parents hadn't sucked, we'd still be awful people?"

Olivia swapped the beer bottle for Francesca before meeting his gaze. "Yes."

Jonathan nodded. "You're probably right."

Francesca stuck her fingers up Olivia's nose.

Olivia gave her a kiss.

"When I got here," Jonathan asked, "Whose car was leaving?"

"Oh, that was Frank. He came over and watched the girls while I cooked breakfast, since Natalia had some… job thing." She was careful not to say Spaulding.

"I can't believe you see Frank so much."

"He is the father of my child," Olivia said. 

Jonathan spit out his beer.

Olivia gave him a serene smile.

He wiped his mouth. "Could have been worse."

"How could it have been worse?"

He grinned. "Could have been Bill. I think he's actually more irresponsible than I am."

"That's almost hard to believe. My Bill?" Olivia winced as Francesca poked at her eye.

"Yeah. Then you'd have to call her Williamina."

"Not on your life."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows.

"Billie would do just fine."

* * * 

Present Day...

Altos had tea waiting, Earl Grey from a consumer tea bag with San Cristobel's pure cane sugar--far too much of it--dumped into his cup. He stood when Olivia entered, and then looked dismayed.

"You did not bring your partner? I thought we were here to talk about hotels."

"You know why I'm here," Olivia said. "Don't even bother pretending. I don't see anyone else at this meeting on your side, either."

"Tea?"

She took the teacup, inhaling. He took one of his own. He sat. 

She remained standing. "Why did you have Jonathan Randall kidnapped?"

Altos blushed, actually turned red, all the way down his chest. He didn't meet her eyes. "He's not kidnapped, please, Olivia. He's under our protection."

"Protection from what?"

He curled his lip.

"I want him released. Right now."

"Please, don't be dramatic. That's not possible right now."

"If he's not kidnapped, and he's not arrested, then he's free to go. Even by San Cristobel's draconian laws."

Altos bristled. "We are part of the Commonwealth. And you wouldn't want us to arrest him. Not formally."

"On what charges?" 

Throwing the teacup in his face, hearing it shatter, was very tempting. She set the cup down. 

"Embezzlement?"

"Oh, please. Jon doesn't have a penny to his name."

Altos sighed. He went to his desk and pulled out an envelope. He waited for Olivia to sit down before handing it to her.

She didn't open it, just stared at him, imagining his head exploding like a pumpkin.

Altos asked, "His father is Richard Winslow, correct?"

"Well, I don't have a DNA test."

"And he married a Winslow."

"From the hooker's side of the family, I hardly think that counts as--"

"And Richard is dead!" 

"For a long time."

"And Edmund is dead."

"Again, I don't have DNA--"

"Please, Olivia."

"And Tammy, she's dead." She stood up. 

He met her gaze for the first time. "Someone has been trying to kill Jonathan and his heir for how many years? Of course he's under our protection."

"The dynasty is long gone, Altos. No one gives a shit anymore."

"Or it's ruling in exile in Springfield! With Reva Shayne. With Cassie Winslow!"

Why had she put down the tea? She reached for it. So easy to throw in his face.

"I didn't know you would come, Olivia. Not first. I thought--" He hesitated. His eyes narrowed. 

"Everyone is busy, Altos. With their lives, with their families. You kidnapped the boy for nothing."

"I didn't kidnap him."

"He's two floors below me."

Altos looked at the floor, as if he was peering through it. "It's a power sharing arrangement, but we're not the party with the most leverage. If we let him out of the palace, they'll kill--"

"You? Half the delegation? Why should I care?"

"Olivia, there must be a way to resolve this without anyone getting hurt."

"Let him out and I won't hurt you."

"I can't. Olivia, you don't know the half of it."

"And when I figure it out? This little puzzle of yours?"

"It's not my--" Altos sighed. "Maybe we can help each other. For old time's sake. For San Cristobel's sake. But I can't tell you everything. They want--You'll know soon enough."

"They they they. There is no They, Altos. Let me see him."

"You're Olivia Spencer. Wounds run deep."

Her grip tightened on the teacup. She thought of her conversation with the commissioner. She knew everything Altos said was a lie. She tried to consider the opposite of his words. The timing had been deliberate, and Jonathan was nothing but leverage. 

She tried not to think it was all about her. 

Altos pretended to be reasonable. To be kind. "Isn't there anyone else? Someone less… political?"

* * * 

A messenger hand-delivered a week's worth of palace scheduling to the suite. Natalia didn't question how he knew which suite was hers, or why he hadn't used email. She just took the folder out onto the balcony. The fresh fruit was warming in the sun. She ate a piece of cantaloupe.

The folder did not contain photographs of Olivia and herself engaged in flagrante delicto. Or photographs of Jonathan selling coke or kicking puppies or whatever trumped up charges San Cristobel was using to legitimize the kidnapping. Surprised, she read through the whole folder twice.

Nothing but party invitations, decorum, and reviews of local restaurants. She closed the folder and looked at the sea instead. Fifteen years on her own in Chicago had taught her no one with money allowed strangers anywhere close to them. Not unless they wanted more than she could afford in return. 

She sighed and opened the folder again. With dinner schedules came dinner wardrobes and travel arrangements and talking points. Olivia had hired her and taught her how to do this. Then she'd done it for Blake and Alan and Phillip.

Never had it felt so shallow.

Never had it been so important.

* * * 

The police commissioner led Rafe down winding, narrow steps to the dungeon underneath the palace. The palace was one of the few buildings built into a hill. Mostly political prisoners and pirates and personal slaves had been kept here. The local criminals had a jail four blocks in from the beach. Pain enough.

"Why me?" Rafe asked. 

The commissioner shrugged. "That is what Ms. Spencer arranged."

"But--"

"Can you not ask her yourself?"

Rafe set his jaw, the anger at the commissioner already boiling inside him. But his mother would kill him if he got thrown out without seeing Jonathan first. As much as he didn't want to see Jonathan. He stepped off stone and onto dirt and straw. Dim, bare bulbs illuminated iron grates, and beyond them, Jonathan, who stood up when he saw them.

"Breakfast will be down in a few minutes. You two can... enjoy." The commissioner smirked as he left them.

"Jonathan," Rafe said.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I? We've met. At Buzz's wedding. I was on my way out and you were on your way in."

Jonathan squinted.

Rafe rolled his eyes. "And at the park. My sister and your daughter play together all the time. I've seen you at church, dude. My mother babysits. Is that enough?" 

He knew he was being belligerent, but even imprisoned Jonathan had a watchful, crazy look in his eye, and it was annoying. If he was going to drag himself into a dungeon and play hero for Olivia, he wanted some recognition.

Jonathan studied him. "You do look kind of familiar."

"Geez. I'm Rafe. Rafe Rivera." He rubbed the back of his head.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed. "Emma's brother. You're a Spaulding."

"I'm not--"

The wall behind Jonathan's eyes was a solid as the iron door. 

"I'm here with Olivia," Rafe said. "And my mom. Natalia."

"Olivia and Natalia?"

Everyone said their names together. Rafe disliked it as much as he disliked that Jonathan had been over at the house, that his daughter had played with Francesca and that Natalia had probably doted on him, probably spoiled him, while Rafe was away. Jonathan was big--brutish, covered in dirt and grime, looking at him with black eyes. And so quiet, when Rafe knew to be loud. That was the worst part. 

Olivia and Natalia. Rafe just nodded.

"Rafe," Jonathan said. "Right. Your picture is everywhere. I'm going a little crazy. Aren't you in the Army? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help you, man. How is that not obvious?"

"But where's Reva? Is she--"

Rafe looked down.

"Then I have to get out of here. I have to see Reva."

Rafe bristled. "I know that."

Footsteps sounded on the staircase. Breakfast. 

"The most important part of the day," Jonathan said, bowing.

"Is it any good?"

"So far it isn't poisoned. That counts for something."

Rafe snorted. But they ate what the guard handed them. Together.

* * * 

Rafe's cell phone didn't get reception, but he let Jonathan record a voice memo that he could send to Reva and Lizzie later. Rafe wondered how long he had to stay. He wondered if he should ask Jonathan how much everything sucked. If he had to like, listen. His mother would listen. She visited people in jail on a regular basis. Strangers with DUIs. Assholes who'd hit someone they loved a little too hard, but still went to church.

Springfield liked her.

"So what you're saying," Jonathan said, "Is that I'm on the wrong side of the family." 

"I have no problem with Olivia's side of the family, man. Emma and Ava. Once Ava and I didn't have to hate each other on like, principle, we really got along."

Jonathan nodded. "Ava and I go way back in Springfield. She's weird, but I'm--well. Once you get used to that." 

"Yeah." 

"And you have a grandfather. Had." 

"Yeah, he didn't kill anyone in my family." At the way Jonathan's face went white, Rafe hesitated. He said, more carefully, "He threatened Emma, though. Like, threatened to have Phillip kidnap her if Olivia didn't break up my parents." 

"Did Olivia break up your parents?" 

Rafe shrugged. 

"I missed so much. Being a coward, running away." Jonathan's gaze got far-off. 

Rafe stood with his head pressed against the bars, trying not to watch Jonathan trying not to cry. 

Rafe said, "I never had like, cousins, not really. Like, grandparents or aunts and uncles. Anyone. My family's always been really nuclear." 

"Not Olivia's." 

Rafe smiled. "Not Olivia's." 

"Growing up, I never had anyone either. Just Dad and Marissa. Sam got sent away. Ran away. Something. Talk about Olivia's family. But look, I'm just a guy in a cell, I don't claim to know anything. Even why you're here." Jonathan put his head in his hands. "Your father ever beat the shit out of you, Rafe?"

"No. No, I never had a father."

"It's probably better. Like, to not have one at all."

Rafe didn't know what to do. He tried not to think about Gus. He tried to do what his mother would do. Made his eyes wider. Kept looking right at Jonathan. Waiting.

"You don't know what it's like. To have Aunt Olivia be the good one in the family. The only one you can really trust. Because your own mother--because Reva doesn't--but just look at Olivia and trust her. Even if she's too drunk to stand," Jonathan said, not looking at him.

Rafe gritted his teeth.

Jonathan looked up. "Yeah. I know you don't like her. Everyone knows. Oh, they say. Too bad about Rafe."

"Why should I?"

"Liv has been through unimaginable crap in her life, just as bad as me, she went and got a new heart and fell in love with her maid. Good for her. And screw you."

Rafe finally looked away. "The only thing I liked--Olivia always did talk to me like I was a human being."

"A human being? Even though you're a Spaulding?"

"I'm a Spencer. It says so right on my birth certificate."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. 

Rafe folded his arms. It was the one thing he could lord over Jonathan. A stupid piece of paper he got blackmailed into. He was ashamed of how proud he was. 

Jonathan looked him up and down. "A new cousin. It's so weird. For so long it just her and Emma. Like me and Sarah. Us against the world. Ava and Sam left. But now there's Natalia. And… you."

"Yeah, cous'. And look at you," Rafe said, gesturing to the dungeon. 

"Hey, I'm a prince." 

"I think I read this somewhere. We switch places, right?" 

"Yes, please." 

* * * 

Rafe joined Olivia and Natalia at lunch at the Sheraton's patio, still blinking at the sunlight after the dungeon as he settled into a chair. Three o'clock felt indecent after Army time. 

"I'm starved," Natalia said.

Olivia reached for her hand. "You'll adjust."

Rafe narrowed his eyes at the public display until Olivia reached for his hand. "Oh." He took it.

Natalia looked skyward and said, "God, please make sure that Jonathan is eating as well as we are."

"He is, Ma."

"And all the little orphans of the world," Olivia said.

Rafe let go of her hand.

Olivia smirked.

"I had breakfast with him," Rafe said.

"Tell me everything," Olivia said. "Don't leave out any detail."

He could see she was worried, that she hadn't touched the pineapple the waiter had brought, that Natalia was holding her wrist, now, not her fingers.

"He's fu--he's really pissed, and I think he's lonely, but he's good. I gave him the pictures like you asked, and I recorded a message for his family."

Jonathan's family. The one that wasn't here.

Olivia nodded, not breaking her gaze.

"He's not in any danger."

Olivia opened her mouth, and then closed it.

Natalia squeezed Olivia's wrist. "Are they hurting him?"

Rafe shook his head. "Nope."

"Eat your papaya," Olivia said.

"How long will it take me to get sick of all this fruit, you think?"

"About the same time you get sick of swimming in the ocean."

Rafe looked beyond the veranda at the line of blue. "Why the heck does anyone live in Springfield?"

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Natalia didn't much like these people, the leaders of San Cristobel, but there was difficulty in being new. Everybody was interested. She'd been in this position before, and had learned to avoid it. Dowdy clothes, a stand-offish attitude. After years of practice, it made her abrasive. Olivia had softened her again, had made her kind. Olivia had held up the mirror and made her look into it, after so many years of looking away. 

After Daisy had, by being sweet. 

After Harley had, by forgiving her.

After Gus had, by trying so hard. By wanting to escape his pain as much as she wanted to escape hers.

She was back in the thick of it, being beautiful. Being surrounded by men who noticed. Friday night's party was at the palace itself, but casual. Only fish, laid out whole, split open, and vegetables steaming from every pot. Very Catholic. 

"This is a waste of time," Rafe said, when he saw none of the friends he'd made.

"Eat and talk to people," Olivia said.

Rafe scowled.

"I'll give you $50."

"Cash, tonight."

"There's a bonus if you talk to Altos."

Rafe sneered, but walked off.

Then Olivia had disappeared before Natalia could turn around, to talk to the men at the other side of the room. Old, and wearing uniforms. Royalists, maybe, instead of investors. Or politicians. 

"You don't look like you're having a very good time, Ms. Rivera," Patrick Thorn said, falling beside her in the service line.

"It's just strange. I'm not used to being in places like this."

"Surrounded by rich and powerful people?"

Natalia laughed, but glancing across the room she saw Olivia's solemn expression. "Is that how you see yourselves?" she asked.

"Are you being coy? I expect a woman in a gown like that to know what she wants."

Natalia took her filled plate to a standing table. She smiled at him. "Not only to know and to want it, but to have it."

He pulled two champagne flutes from a passing waiter's tray. "So you're happily married."

She rubbed the ring on her finger. "You?"

"Unhappily." He smiled. 

He was trying to be alluring. To tell her how powerful he thought he was. He could do whatever she wanted, if she would do the same for him. 

"Do you know why I dated my eventual husband, Mr. Thorn?" Natalia asked.

He laughed, his eyes above hers, his champagne flute in his hand.

"Because I didn't have to wear dresses like this. When it was just me and Nicky, I could be myself. I didn't have to charm my friends. I didn't have to please my parents. And he--He was always smiling, always joking. Class clown. The first person you'd go to if you needed to cheer up, or if you needed a hand. Or just... to be at peace. See, when he was talking, I didn't have to. I could just... be. That's what I like, Mr. Thorn. The exact opposite of this."

"Don't we all?"

Natalia glanced at his champagne. "I think some people would like being paraded around here. Having the most expensive jewelry, the prettiest dress. Having every man's gaze on her…"

His gaze went to Olivia, across the room, in her flame red dress, with a man on each arm. She was smiling. She had a luxurious, beautiful smile. Dale Carnegie may have put it into print, but to some women it came naturally. 

A smile was a weapon. 

Natalia turned hers on Patrick. "Can you give me that, Mr. Thorn?"

"All the diamonds in the world for you to just sit around and be yourself? I don't think so, Ms. Rivera." He looked genuinely sad.

"I don't think so either."

She could feel his gaze on her as she strode across the room to Olivia. Olivia kissed her cheek.

Later, Olivia would tell her how stunning she was in the cerulean dress, how Olivia couldn't keep her eyes off her all night, how much she appreciated Natalia's presence, the diamonds circling her throat, the heels that made her taller, and therefore, more menacing to their enemies. 

For now, though, Natalia simply stood next to Olivia, among the throngs of people, basking in her presence alone.

* * *

20 years ago, Chicago, IL 

"We're sorry," Rosa said, leaning through the doorway of the room Natalia rented. As if Natalia might shut it in her face. Natalia was tempted. 

"Where's Papa?" 

"We didn't want to overwhelm you, mi'ja." 

Natalia rolled her eyes. 

Rosa actually bit her tongue, but Natalia could read the expression anyway. She'd always been a willful child. Better to lessen the number of people she had to rail against. 

"Come home," Rosa said. 

"What do you think will happen? I've grown up. Raphael's nearly one." Her voice choked with tears, which weren't fair. They'd tried to find her at the hospital, and at her previous jobs. This was the first time she let anyone through the door.

Willful child. 

"I'm fine, Mama. Everything's fine." 

"Can I just see my grandchild?" 

As if Natalia was the one thing standing in Rosa's way. She stepped aside, letting Rosa into the townhouse she shared with four other women. She and Rafe had their own room, upstairs. The smallest, with no closet. A closet itself, really. But it was her first taste of privacy since she'd been thrown out of her house eighteen months ago. 

When they were upstairs, when Rafe was tucked into Rosa's arms, Rosa's voice had become almost loving. 

"You know, I could help out."

"I don't need--" 

"If we babysat, maybe you could work more easily. Or maybe--" 

Natalia took Rafe back from her mother. He began wailing. 

Rosa left her number on the dresser. In case Natalia had forgotten how to phone home. 

* * * 

The first few babysitting sessions went well enough. Natalia insisted Rosa come to her apartment, but Rosa hated it. The noise, the smells, the banging on the door from lost crackheads or misinformed pimps. Natalia wouldn't go back home. So Rosa picked up Rafe and brought him home after work. 

Until the day she didn't. 

Natalia called. Angry. Scared. 

"I'm sorry, mi'ja, I just haven't had a chance. I'm so busy around the house. Can you just--" 

So Natalia went and picked up her son and tried not to look at the apartment, at all the things she remembered still on the wall. She didn't ask if her room was the same, or if they had turned it into an exercise room or something. She didn't stay for dinner, or compliment anyone, or even speak, not with tears stinging her eyes and anger burning in her chest. 

She didn't let her mother see Rafe for a week. But it got hard, so hard, and Rosa was so willing-- 

Three weeks later, when Natalia went to pick him up from her parents' apartment, he wasn't there. 

"Where's my son?" she asked, standing in the kitchen, feeling fifteen years old again, feeling chastised even though they'd taken Rafe. 

"He's at his aunt's for the weekend. Just a few days. You need a break, Natalia. You're so tired. You're working so hard. Wouldn't this be easier." 

Natalia's eyes welled with tears. Of course this would be easier. But she had to fight or they would take it away. She'd lost everything but her son--because of them, she'd lost everything--she couldn't lose the last piece, too.

"Where is he?" she shouted. 

The disappointment in her mother's eyes made the next screams die in her throat. She was exactly who they thought she'd be. Willful, hysterical, immature. 

"You raised me," she said. 

Their constant warnings her whole life, that she would shame them, that temptation was too powerful, had all come true. They'd painted her into a picture. She slammed the door. 

* * * 

"You have to help me," she said, to the owner who sat at the table, sipping vodka at three in the afternoon. "They took my son." 

Raul Islava looked at her easily. "I don't have to do anything." 

This was the first time they'd spoken, though Natalia had been one of his Friday/Saturday bartenders for six months. And he'd noticed her. She'd seen his gaze on her more than once. She'd kept her job when others had been thrown out. She was good at what she did. And she was nice to look at. And she was young. Was that enough to trade for her son's life? 

Raul said, "Your son? He's Nick Augustino's cast-off, right?" 

"He's Rafe's father. But I haven't--" 

"I heard he turned state's evidence." 

Natalia closed her eyes. "I don't even know what that means." 

"You know where he is?" 

"I have no idea." 

"So you want a favor? It'll cost you."

Natalia closed her eyes. "I know what it'll cost me." 

"And I'm not going to bail out your goddamn kid every time something like this happens." 

Natalia opened her eyes. "Just this once." 

Raul smiled. "Just this once." 

* * *

Poor Patrick, despite their spat, he was still trying to be polite as he finished his fish. He'd gotten her a second glass of champagne. She let herself be separated from Olivia's side and she'd devoured the champagne as fast as the bubbles would allow.

"You're happily married, but your husband--Nick--isn't here, Ms. Rivera?" 

He was looking down at her ring. She tried to think of what to say.

He smiled. "I didn't mean to intrude."

Of course he did.

"My husband died. This is--" she looked for Olivia, who was with Altos now, intense and unhappy. Rafe had slipped away. She looked back at Patrick. "I wanted Nick to be the only one. Ever. Then I found… my soulmate. We promised to be only with each other. To take care of each other. To build a life together. It's something, isn't it? Even though it doesn't feel the same."

"Yes. I'm envious, Ms. Rivera. I can see I have reason to be in your eyes. Though there's often a component of God. At least, here on San Cristobel."

"Of course. Saint Christopher has--Anyway, yes. Believe me, it was God's idea. I had a lot of love. And a lot of penance. For my whole life." Her voice trailed off. "If you'll excuse me."

He nodded.

She walked toward Olivia, who'd been laughing, happier again, sitting, sipping Evian. But when Olivia saw her, her eyes narrowed. Natalia felt like she was walking into the lion's den. Straight to the demon herself. She leaned down and whispered in Olivia's ear, "Smile?"

Olivia smiled, all joy and light, all the dangerous airs slipping from her countenance, her eyes meeting Natalia's and staying. They were the only two people in the universe.

Natalia took her hand. "Let's go."

"Anything you want."

Natalia led Olivia out, not sparing a glance for the man behind her, not caring if he was watching or understanding. Or undressing her. Like she had anything left for him.

Olivia caressed her hand, playful, squirming, wanting in on the joke. 

"It goes both ways, you know," Natalia said, when they were enclosed by the elevator. Alone.

"Hm?"

Natalia tugged Olivia closer, squeezing her fingers. "Anything you want."

Olivia leaned closer. 

* * * 

Natalia hadn't spoken again during the cab ride or the elevator ride, and shut inside their bedroom, she pulled her dress over her head before Olivia had time to ask. The lights were dim, that would do. 

"Turn around," Natalia said.

"Are you--"

"I'm fine. Please?"

Olivia turned and Natalia unzipped her dress and slid it off of her. Then she was free to kiss Olivia's shoulder, and the back of her neck, and her spine. She tasted good. Natalia wanted this slowness, this quiet. She slid her arms around Olivia's waist and Olivia reached for them, just as Natalia knew she would.

"Your, um, breasts…" Natalia asked.

Olivia lifted Natalia's hands and pressed them to her breasts. Natalia closed her eyes, straightening as her hands lifted, not squeezing but brushing. She teased points and followed slopes and scars. She peppered kisses along Olivia's skin. Olivia's hands began to move with hers, pressing. Then Olivia arched and Natalia knew butterfly kisses wouldn't do. She released Olivia.

"Can I turn around?" Olivia asked.

"Not yet." 

Olivia said no more. Natalia unpinned her hair, and Olivia's, and then undressed fully and turned down the covers. Their bed. Not her husband's, not any man's. She could ask, and Olivia would turn, and gaze at her like she had gazed at the party, all heat and love. She should let them remove their makeup. But she didn't wait to wait.

"You're so passionate," Natalia said.

Olivia turned around. "Try me. You always get quiet when you're pissed off."

"I'm not pissed off." Natalia slipped onto the bed and beckoned Olivia. "At you."

"That's good."

"Mm."

Olivia crawled over her. "That's very good."

Natalia pulled Olivia on top of her, coaxing until Olivia settled on her completely. Yes, just like this. This weight. These curves. No clothes. No trappings. Olivia kissed her ear and then pushed her hair aside to kiss her neck. Her hands were gentle, cautious.

"No, more," Natalia said.

"No more?" 

"I need more." Natalia lifted her knee, locking them together. Olivia grunted and lifted herself on her hands. Her eyes met Natalia's in the darkness. 

"What do you want?"

"I want--" She wanted not to be upset. She wanted to wash away the memories of her mother, of her other life, of what men thought of her. She wanted to forget the city completely, the place she and her son had grown up, and think of herself as a small town girl in her lover's arms. 

She was angry. She tried to never be angry.

Olivia brushed hair off her forehead. Natalia squeezed her eyes shut. Tenderness burned her.

"I want it to be senseless. I just want to forget where we are."

But she couldn't quite ask. The words were lost in her undirected rage. She wanted Olivia to fuck her senseless, to do what no one else had been able to do. She had never been afraid of Olivia's desire. Even when she thought that it was wrong, that it was selfish to crave, an impossibility. Olivia's burning, boring gaze had been simply warm to her. Welcome.

"San Cristobel?" Olivia asked.

"Make me forget everything but you. Please, Olivia." Natalia drew her down for an urgent, starving kiss. Olivia's weight didn't settle but pushed into her, crushed her into the bed. The heat between them rose, matching Natalia's anger.

Oliva's thigh pressed and Natalia arched. She was so ready, so hungry. She dug her nails into Olivia's shoulders, knowing Olivia would react by twisting against her, by grinding down. 

"Tell me," Olivia said, breathing against her ear.

"I'm tired of being asked if I'm married."  
Olivia laughed, a harsh and biting sound, and kissed her throat, and then her shoulder. Natalia stung from the kisses. She twisted, seeking more of Olivia's body.

"I'm tired of people assuming. I hate it. I hate what people think."

Olivia shifted, her lips tracing the curve of Natalia's breasts, but Natalia stopped her. Already the warmth between them was too much. "Stay with me."

Fingers tickled Natalia's side.

"Just... my breasts." 

Natalia wasn't sure if she wanted the stinging or the tenderness. Olivia slid along the spectrum so easily. She was so aware of Natalia's body and her own that Natalia wanted to surrender--she couldn't. Not yet. Olivia shifted again, her weight leaving, her gaze meeting Natalia's briefly. Natalia held her breath. She could only watch as Olivia's head descended. Olivia showered her breasts and shoulders and heart with kisses. Warmth spread through Natalia's chest and as Olivia's tantalizing lips neared her breast, circling, Natalia felt the slightest graze of teeth. Her nipples tightened in anticipation. 

Olivia braced herself on either side of Natalia, so that nothing touched Natalia's breasts except her lips and strands of her hair. The first touch on her nipple was rough and scalding. Natalia jerked up. She wanted more of her breast in Olivia's punishing mouth and Olivia complied. Her tongue circled and strafed her nipple. Her cheeks hollowed. Natalia groaned. The sudden pleasure and pain had radiated through every nerve ending, obliterating everything else.

"Olivia…" There was only Olivia, and not quite enough of her. She pulled at Olivia's shoulders, ignoring the smug look Olivia gave her, then letting out a howl and arching as Olivia's fingers slipped over her, and then into her, not as roughly as Olivia's mouth, but firm and sure. She breathed Olivia's name. 

She moved with Olivia, matching thrusts, touching Olivia everywhere she could reach, not stopping, just wanting, more and more until Olivia's lips crushed hers in a kiss, robbing her of breath. Her vision nearly went black. Olivia moved inside her. Relentless. The kiss broke. Natalia gasped into a shuddering climax. 

Olivia covered her, her fingers retreating as her embrace tightened. Natalia became jelly. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. Olivia kissed her shoulder.

Natalia pushed at her. "Don't be so arrogant."

"I know you," Olivia said, in liquid purr. 

"Yes. Thank God."

"Well." Olivia said. "I feel used."

Natalia snorted.

Olivia rolled onto her back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

Olivia glanced at her.

Natalia propped herself up on her elbow, smiling. "I know… You want me to have all this. The glittering, rich world. The lifestyle, or whatever. Dresses and diamonds and…"

"All that you deserve," Olivia said softly, her gaze on Natalia's.

Natalia nodded. "I don't think I like it. I mean, these people are jerks."

"There are jerks everywhere."

"Believe me, I know. I just…" Natalia ran her fingers through Olivia's hair, peering down at her. "When are we going home?"

Olivia looked somber. "Soon."

Natalia nodded, and then leaned down to kiss Olivia. "I want you to feel… what I feel. All that love. All that… knowing." She put her hand over Olivia's heart.

"I think anything is possible."

Natalia blushed and nuzzled Olivia's temple. 

Olivia stretched. "What did you have in mind?"

Natalia kissed Olivia's cheek, and then her shoulder, and then her arm. She was in this place with Olivia now, yet that urgency was still bubbling inside her. The need that had brought Olivia inside of her remained. She wanted more.

"My favorite place is with you," she said, not quite looking up. Olivia had threaded one hand through her hair, stroking and separating strands, but otherwise she wasn't touching Natalia. She was just opening herself to Natalia's kisses. Expanding and contracting where Natalia's lips landed, until Natalia was on her knees next to the bed.

Natalia waited, breathing slowly, while Olivia bunched pillows and sprawled comfortably, and then she bent her head between parted knees. Olivia's body alone belonged to her. Gus's she had wanted but shared. But Olivia would have no one else's and she--

She lowered her lips to Olivia. Exploring. Tasting. Loving. Everything else could disappear but this. Olivia squirmed, warm and responsive, hissing as her tongue found favorite spots, but Natalia wasn't interested in the crescendo. She wanted to take her time; to be here, not back in the world, where a boy was suffering and they were suffering to get to him. She didn't want to think of her children.

She slipped inside Olivia. Wetness was on her cheeks already, but the source--she wanted that, coating her tongue as she moved out to swirl across Olivia. Tension was building. Olivia's thighs were rigid against her. Olivia was closer--Natalia exhaled across Olivia's center and felt the trembling go through both of them. But she wasn't ready. She was still taking her time.

Olivia's fingers tightened in her hair. Olivia was going to fake an orgasm. Natalia knew her, too. To end this. To please her. To end this anxiety that vibrated between them.

"No," Natalia said. "Please. However long it takes."

Olivia groaned.

Natalia lifted her head and met dazed eyes.

"I thought it was me," Olivia said.

Natalia shook her head.

Olivia arched an eyebrow. Natalia's mouth watered. She sat back on her heels. Olivia smirked, seeing her expression, and asked, "You could do this for hours?"

"Forever."

"You're always talking about forever," Olivia mused. "I'm starting to believe you."

Natalia smiled.

"In you."

"Then… relax."

"Relax? We're in San Cristobel? And you--" Olivia didn't finish.

Natalia kissed Olivia's thigh. "I love you. You're my whole life, Olivia, since--Since the moment Gus was gone and there you were and I would have…"

Olivia's hand had settled against her hair, stroking. That was a good sign.

"I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to make you my whole life. But I did, so. Be here with me."

Olivia's hand stilled.

Natalia waited, in the breaths.

"The places you go, Natalia. They're so confusing."

Natalia smiled against Olivia's skin.

"I don't know how."

"Relax."

Olivia let out a slow, shuddering breath. Natalia could feel some tension leaving her hips. 

"Let me have… You said… "

"Whatever you want," Olivia said. She hesitated. "What do you want?"

"Your orgasm." Natalia looked up.

Olivia met her eyes and nodded.

Natalia pushed her hair over her shoulder, twisting it so it wouldn't fall in her face, over Olivia's hips. She gave Olivia a more impish smile. 

Olivia's gaze narrowed.

"I need you to come against my tongue." 

Olivia's head fell back. She opened herself to Natalia. "Whatever you want."

Natalia kissed a path along the inside of Olivia's thigh and then kissed, barely a caress, before moving lower. She made love to Olivia, focused now on bringing white heat from the warmth. She wanted to unleash the passion that Olivia so patiently kept in check, the same depth of emotion that Olivia had wrought from her.

She let Olivia hear her moans and feel her teeth and tongue and lips and Olivia's grip finally tightened in her hair.

"Please," Olivia said.

Natalia pressed closer, giving into what Olivia needed. She didn't stray, she didn't stop. Olivia came, a sharp jolt suspending them both, and then becoming jagged, sensitive to Natalia's kisses. Olivia's chest heaved as she tried to recover her breath.

Natalia didn't want to let go. When she stood she'd feel the soreness. Olivia coaxed her with weak hands. Natalia gathered herself and then moved to the bed. Olivia brought her into a loose hug.

Natalia worked her jaw. "Sometimes I think people just don't understand me."

Olivia laughed.

"Stop."

Olivia kissed her hair. 

Natalia closed her eyes. She didn't fall asleep, not exactly. She only dozed, listening to Olivia's breathing, reassured that Olivia was alive, and hers. 

"We should turn off the light," Olivia said.

Natalia propped herself up on an elbow and gazed at Olivia. "I need to tell you something."

"I'm all ears."

"About my past. About Rafe."

Olivia was all ears and wide eyes and slightly open mouth. Natalia recognized that fearful look. 

"When Rafe was a little boy... " She took a deep breath. 

Olivia reached for her shoulder. Natalia sat up, brushing her away. 

"Natalia, you don't have to..."

"When Rafe was a little boy, I tried to introduce him to his grandparents." 

Olivia shifted, not touching her, but coming to sit beside her on the bed. 

Natalia closed her eyes. She wasn't sure she wanted to tell Olivia this story. Even though it had come back so vividly at Patrick Thorn's questioning, after all those years. The anger had bubbled up so hot. She didn't want that again. 

She took a deep breath. "They tried to get him adopted. Out from under me. They even had him with foster parents by the time I found him and got him back."

"Bastards."

"Olivia. I had to get him back. I would have done anything." 

Olivia's fingers brushed her arm. "What did you do?"

Natalia remembered another time they'd sat together in bed. She remembered Olivia's nightmares. Olivia had nightmares about everything. Especially Jeffrey O'Neill. Natalia didn't have nightmares. She had a son and two daughters and a home and a job and she had Olivia Spencer. 

One night in San Cristobel and she felt like a terrified little girl again.

"I went to the mob. The people that killed Nicky's dad, and--I got Rafe back."

"And paid the price," Olivia said.

Natalia nodded, tears dripping down her cheeks. "And paid the price." She felt dirty, somehow. Unwashed. Logic warred with her senses. She had confessed to her priest a lifetime ago. God had forgiven her for the things she had done. Olivia certainly wouldn't care. And yet she wanted to lock herself in the bathroom until she was a different person.

"You know..." Olivia said, in that drawl that was meant to lighten the situation, just when Natalia didn't want anything made light of. She braced herself. But Olivia said, "I'd pay any price too. For Raphael."

"I know," Natalia said. Her hand went to her throat. The cross her fingers found was empty of a body. Cool silver. Smooth. Absolved. 

"Tell me more," Olivia said.

Natalia shifted to face her, lowering her hand. "There were men. Lots of men. Well, not lots. Hardly any by certain standards."

Olivia smiled.

"But..."

"There were men."

Natalia nodded. "At first. And then, as Rafe got older, as things got easier--just a little bit easier--maybe I had settled--there were fewer men. And the men were more like Frank. Good men that I chose so carefully. Vetted so thoroughly. But just couldn't... Stomach. I'd rather wait tables my whole life. I never would have married him if you hadn't pushed me."

"I--"

Natalia lifted her hand. "I mean, I thought you pushing was like, a sign. A sign that whatever was in me, that was making me say no, was something to be overcome."

Olivia looked away.

"When I found Gus, he reminded me so much of, I mean, my Nicky, obviously, but also those early guys. Those wilder ones. I thought if I could just go back in time. Have everything I wanted..."

"Start over."

Natalia nodded. 

"We did start over."

"We did." Natalia reached for Olivia's hand. "Not in the way I thought."

"So. You're saying Russo was..."

Natalia gave a short laugh. "Russo. I thought I would never have to go back to that. But my son had shot someone. My own son. And the money--I was at the end of my rope."

"You should have--"

Natalia squeezed her hand. "I did what I always did. What I had to do."

Olivia brought Natalia's fingers to her lips, and then met her eyes.

Natalia smiled. "The thing about Russo. About Raul. About all those men... They don't care if you're not into it. That almost makes it easier. No need to perform or to lie to anyone. They don't care if you collapse there like you're dying. If you scream. If you curse them, or pray to God, or beg. They don't even notice you. Or if they do..."

"It's what they like," Olivia said.

"Oh, I'm sure they get a huge rush out of watching someone squirm."

Olivia lowed her gaze again.

"So," Natalia said. "I'm me and you're you."

"Sure."

"You know how I feel?"

"When I sleep with someone for money, or because I'm being blackmailed, or because I want a favor, I make sure I enjoy it. That they know I enjoy it. My choice. So it's not--I won't let them have that satisfaction."

Natalia drew her hand away. "I will never let anyone take my family from me. I will do anything... Anything."

"Me too."

Natalia curled up, drawing Olivia around her until Olivia was holding her tightly, one arm across her chest, another around her stomach. Olivia used to hold her like that when Natalia was pregnant, to protect them both. Natalia closed her eyes. But this room wasn't their home. She slipped out of bed.

Olivia let out a grunt of protest, but didn't speak, just watched, as Natalia went to the sliding door and slid it open, settling the screen in place. The sound of the waves crashing was deafening. Natalia came back to bed.

"White noise?" Olivia asked.

"Absolutely." Natalia wriggled back into Olivia's arms.

"I'm not going to be able to sleep with all that racket."

Natalia squinted.

Olivia kissed Natalia's temple and squeezed her close. "So I'll just stay up and watch you dream."

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

In the heat of the second afternoon on San Cristobel, when Rafe was tired of swimming, when he didn't want to be found because his mother would bug him about what to wear to dinner, about who to talk to, about not being so late, he went into the dungeon to sit with Jonathan. 

The dungeon wasn't exactly pleasantly cool and dark, but it was suitable enough. He brought Jonathan candy. Hershey's bars and fruit and nuts and Skittles. Rafe liked red. Jonathan liked purple and green. His tongue was already purple. He chewed with his mouth open. 

Rafe more delicately stuck a Skittle behind his gum and played with it and let it melt. Maximize the sugar. Don’t tell his mom. 

But he probably wasn't as hungry as Jonathan, not with the jerk wings and grilled hamburgers at the beach. He'd slipped in and out of cruise line crowds. People who didn't know that San Cristobel sucked. Rafe should be angrier than he was; he ate their food as a kind of revenge. And when Jonathan ate their food, it was like, double points. 

"So, Rafe, can I ask you a personal question?" Jonathan asked. 

He didn't really want to answer personal questions. Not from this dip shit cousin. But he didn't want to be rude, either. So he said, "Yeah." 

"In prison…" 

Rafe swallowed his Skittle, so he wouldn't choke. Jonathan's voice was even. 

"…Were you, uh, raped?" 

Rafe froze. He wanted to lash out, to say, "The hell, man?" to laugh it off, or most of all to punch Jonathan in the face. But Jonathan was out of reach and looking at him seriously with those dark eyes. And they were in a dungeon, anyway. Just Jonathan and Rafe. No one else would ever hear. If he couldn't tell someone behind bars, someone who couldn't get him, then-- 

He said, "No." 

Jonathan was silent. 

"But," Rafe said. "Prison, man. No one understands. I mean, at first it was fine. I'm an asshole. I could be crazy enough and fierce enough that people kept their distance. Evaluated. But after a while, they were done evaluating. They knew me pretty well. Probably better than my mother does." 

Jonathan grinned. 

"I hung with the Latinos. I mean, I had to, look at me. My name. Didn't matter that they were second generation Chicago from Mexico and I'm like, third generation Chicago from Puerto Rico. Not like anyone else was going to get my back. The skinheads? Yeah, right. And, whatever, it's what I grew up with. So at first it was like… almost nostalgic." 

"At first?" 

Rafe tossed back his head and laughed. "Eventually they wanted me to pull my own weight. Get the right gang tats. Show my allegiance. Do favors. And when I didn't do them right--" 

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. 

"I got the shit beat out of me. It was scary, but it wasn't--I mean, big deal, right? But I was so afraid they were going to kill me. Not what they were doing but what might happen. Like, the fear made me sick, all the time. You ask a question like that? 'No' doesn't matter."

Jonathan nodded. 

"Have they done that here?" Rafe asked. "Whacked you around?" 

"No. Not like anything would be as bad as what I've been through. You're the only person I ever see."

As if that didn't make Rafe feel guilty. He nodded. 

"So, like, how often did--" Jonathan's voice trailed off. 

"Until they broke my arm. They were a lot bigger than me. Whatever. Accidents happen. But boom went my arm and then Daisy found out and then Olivia found out and--" 

Even now, he winced at the memory. 

Jonathan grinned. "What did Olivia do?" 

"She was--It was so embarrassing." Rafe felt like he was blushing, but in for a penny… He felt like a goddamn girl playing Truth or Dare. Confessing to being beaten was easier than this part of the story. "She showed up. Like I couldn't handle it myself. Like I had to bother her when she was really sick--a week after she'd frickin' had a heart attack. The new heart. She looked like a zombie. And it was my fault." 

Jonathan looked down at his hands. 

"What?" Rafe asked.

"I just…wasn't around when she was going through all that." 

"You were trying to keep your daughter from being murdered, I think she gets it." 

Jonathan half-shrugged. "Maybe, but. Anyway, onward, maestro." 

"It was humiliating. Olivia having to solve my problems. Olivia. Like I couldn't on my own. I hated her so much." 

"You take care of yourself," Jonathan said. 

"Yeah. Me and my mother. If we couldn't earn it, we went without." 

Jonathan rubbed his head, tousling his long hair. Too long, Rafe thought. He should grow up and-- 

"You know Olivia's not like that, right?" Jonathan asked. 

"What?" 

"She says she's so tough. Lone wolf, but come on. She always asks for help. She can't do anything herself. Look at her. If she tries to do something on her own she pretty much destroys it. So she relies on other people. In business, in her goddamn personal life--apparently, Reva told me, Olivia went all over town like, soliciting advice about Natalia. Because she couldn't function. She just asks all the time. Or demands. But it's the same, you know?" 

Rafe exhaled. "I never thought about it like that." 

"You were pissed because she didn't think you could handle a few bullies without worrying your mother." 

Rafe nodded. 

"That's because Olivia couldn't. She can't deal with bullies. She yells, but. Even with her own mother she--" Jonathan set his jaw and wrung his hands. "Look, she may have made her money on the backs of other people, but she didn't do it alone." 

"It's just… not how I was raised. Keep your head down, don't be too mean, and you won't get in trouble. I mean, the first time my mother got in trouble, for like, anything in her life, she lost her home. Her whole family." 

"So if Olivia makes waves…" 

"Ma could like, lose her job? Her place? I mean, her son's already a fucking felon. Back then, Olivia was probably the only one in town who'd give her a chance and I--But--" 

"But?" 

"I think Ma's wrong, sometimes. Olivia got things done. It was humiliating as shit and like, involved the governor, and my mother hated her for it even more than I did--that's a lot of hate to deal with--but Olivia actually helped. She actually knew what to do. She saved me. She let me be closer to my family--You'd think that's the last thing Olivia would want."

Saying the words didn't hurt as much as he'd thought they would. 

"She's messy."

"When my ma first started working for her… I wouldn't even let her visit me in prison. I wouldn't let her do anything that would make things less than easy, less than perfect, for Olivia. I didn't want her to get fired." 

Jonathan tilted his head. 

Rafe felt good enough to eat another Skittle. He did, and then said, "Exactly the opposite of what should have been going on. Olivia likes someone to yell at her." 

Jonathan grinned. 

Rafe tossed a Skittle at Jonathan. "Don't tell her I said that." 

"I won't tell anyone about anything. I promise." 

Rafe nodded. 

Jonathan reached through the bars for the Skittles bag.

Rafe held it out of his grasp. "You know, long hair, pretty eyes. If you didn't have a kid I'd totally call you out as queer."

Jonathan grinned. "Well, I did fuck my cousin."

Rafe handed him the bag. "Good point." 

"What about you? You queer? Like your mommy?" 

Rafe smiled. "Hardly, man. But maybe I just haven't met the right cousin." 

Jonathan winked. 

* * * 

"Hi, Jonathan." 

Natalia appeared at the bottom of the staircase, nervous but trying to smile. She'd come in the late afternoon, when most of San Cristobel had siesta, exhausted from waking up and long lunches. She’d passed Rafe at the hotel and he’d said that Jonathan was fine. But she couldn't handle a perfect afternoon while a boy languished underground.

The dungeon was dark. Too dark to see fully how pale he was. "You're not getting any vitamin E," she said.

"It's fine," Jonathan said. "Don't worry about me, Natalia."

She pulled a vitamin bottle out of her bag. "Flintstones?"

He grinned.

"Let me in," she asked the guard who had haltingly followed her down.

"Ma'am, I can't--"

"You can and you will. Right now. Do you know who I am?"

He unlocked the gate and Natalia slipped in, bristling against the sudden claustrophobia, hating the smell. Jonathan backed up, giving her the cleanest seat on the bench. 

The guard went to the staircase and sat down, looking at them warily.

"Do you know who you are?" Jonathan mimicked.

"This is awful," Natalia said.

Jonathan looked at his hands.

"We should be here more. Maybe the three of us. We'll rotate. And we can bring you books."

Jonathan reached for her hand. "I said it's fine, Natalia. Just keep working on getting me out of here."

"We are." Her eyes filled with tears. The smell and the straw pricked at them. She rubbed her face with her free hand.

"Natalia…"

She turned to him.

"I don't mind it." 

"You said that." She squeezed his hand.

"I've done a lot of awful things in my life. Like, more bad than you know about. Worse than your darling Oh-liv-ia."

She gave him a small smile.

"Maybe this is just, like… what I deserve."

"You're not in prison, Jonathan. You're a hostage. For someone else's purpose. A pawn. Not a martyr."

"But. Circumstances. Look around. Maybe this is where I need to be right now. Really, it isn't so bad. I've been in worse. Even free."

"Jonathan."

"Tell me that God hasn't put me here."

She smiled. "Maybe God has put me here." 

He looked away. "I'm just saying, whatever's going on, it's probably my fault. Karma's catching up with me, Natalia."

"Not Reva's fault? Not Olivia's? Not Lizzie Spaulding's?" 

Jonathan shrugged.

Natalia opened her bag and pulled out her phone. "I want you to look at something." She queue up a video.

He took the phone from her. Reva's face filled the screen on the shaky video. 

"Hi Jonathan. Day two. Day three? I'm sorry I'm not there. I still can't believe I saw you only a couple of weeks ago and now I'm not there. I got your message. I hope you're getting mine. How are you doing today, kid?"

Jonathan squeezed the phone, crouching over it. Natalia touched his back.

Reva continued, "I'm sure you're so thrilled to be back in San Cristobel. I wouldn't go back to that shit hole if there was a gun to my head--Oh. Sorry, Jonathan. I love you." 

Somewhere behind her, Josh shouted, "I love you."

"Don't trust Olivia," Reva said. 

Jonathan blushed and handed Natalia back the phone.

"Olivia gave me three hundred dollars in cash to bribe the guard with," Natalia said. "Should we try?"

Jonathan glanced at the guard. "He's nice enough. Doesn't seem to be after anything. I have a feeling it will take a lot more on some dude a lot higher up."

Natalia nodded. "I know. I wish we could just… walk right out of here."

"Me too." He put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad you're here, Auntie N. What's option two?"

"I brought you a salad."

Jonathan's eyes widened. "That's quite a bag of tricks."

Natalia gave him a quick smile. 

"I've been talking to Rafe, you know," Jonathan said, as she got the travel container and a fork. "About prison. I mean, it's not the same. But."

"What does he say?"

"I mean, it's man to man, like--but I want to say, whatever you're imagining, I don't think it was as bad as all that. Like, you probably don't have to worry about him. I asked him point blank. It's cool."

Natalia bit her lip and looked down.

"And uh. Could you tell Reva that, too? I mean, her past in San Cristobel was pretty shady. Dangerous as hell. I don't want her to think it's like that."

Natalia groped for his hand. Jonathan put the salad aside. 

"Just tell her that I can take it."

Natalia moved closer to him, pressing against his shoulder. "Can you?"

Jonathan sniffed and nodded. 

Natalia twisted and took him into her arms. 

"It's all right. I said--" He pressed his face into her neck.

"Tell me everything." 

* * * 

The invitation was engraved, though sent only yesterday, a month after the regular invitations had gone out, a day before the party, Olivia's name was written in calligraphy meant to mimic the rest of the letter.

"Ms. Olivia Spencer, you and your guests are cordially invited to the Embassy of the United States…" She fought the urge to crumple the invitation. 

She had to go. 

That place that had ended her childhood, had killed her mother, had made Sam grow up without his--the sucking vortex of an aging building filled with poorly paid expatriates who lived like kings on an island with low crime and extensive bribery, who--

Curling up under the bed until Natalia came back was tempting. She should have known that skating along the surface of San Cristobel was not going to work, not when Jonathan was trapped in its bowels. She did the second worst, most difficult thing she could think of, to psych herself up for cutting out San Cristobel's heart. 

"So," Olivia asked when Reva picked up the phone, "How many tubes and machines do they have to hook you up to for you not to be here in sunny San Cristobel?"

"Olivia, if one hair on Jonathan's head gets hurt I'm going to hold you personally responsible."

"Oh, are you?"

"I will strangle you with my bare hands."

"I appreciate the gratitude, Reva. And the support."

"Olivia, I will not have them trying to take my children away from me. I will not have it. You're a mother. You--"

"Not only do I understand, but I'm actually here."

"Good. It's good you're there. Richard would want you to be there."

"Richard. The man I was going to marry, before you stole him?"

"Olivia. Please. That was a gazillion years ago. Besides, he never loved you."

"I feel all better now. What about Josh? Did he ever love me? I'm sure as fuck Jeffrey didn't. Now Buzz--There was a real man." Olivia took a breath. 

Silence echoed across the line. Olivia hesitated, wondering if Reva had hung up.

Reva said, "You never loved Richard, either. You just wanted something...better."

Olivia closed her eyes, pressing the phone to her forehead.

"And Josh adores you. The bastard. Tell me, Olivia. You got his money, you nearly sold him out to the mob. Did you love him, too?"

Olivia sighed. "More and more every day." She shut the phone. She felt mildly nauseous, but neither homicidal nor victorious. That was something. 

* * * 

Rafe had watched through the glass until Olivia hung up the phone, then cautiously opened the sliding door. 

Olivia looked over her shoulder at him. "That was Reva. How's Jonathan?"

"He's fine."

"Reva made some threats."

"Tell her to come here and say them." Rafe smiled.

"I will. What did you and Jon talk about today?"

"We--You don't kiss me," Rafe said. Then he covered his mouth. He hadn't meant to do that.

"I don't kiss you." 

"You kiss Jonathan, like, right on the lips. Which, gross? But Emma, too. And I'm sure Ava--" 

"Ava and I can be very affectionate." Olivia got up, staring at him. 

The memory was there. He could see it in her expression. Along with a lot of pain he didn't get. Ava was just like her, just like him, except nicer. 

She lunged at him, too fast for him to get his arms up, because he hadn't known she was going to do that, and then she was kissing him--his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his nose. Anywhere her lips could reach as he squirmed against her headlock, trying not to hurt her while freeing himself. 

His mother had taught him to bear uncomfortable situations. To keep his head down if he could. He didn't have his mother's tolerance, but he could suffer through some things. He could take it. Olivia, yelling at him in prison. Olivia, seducing men. Olivia, kissing him. 

He might lose his temper if she kept at it, but--She released him and he scrambled up, his cheeks hot as she laughed at him. He ran through the suite and slammed the door, panting inside his room. Hoping his mother didn't hear him. 

There had been something there, in those few seconds, where he'd felt-- 

It wasn't like, an Oedipal thing, Olivia all over him. And not a maternal thing. Not in a million years. But he'd been… it had felt like being pounced by a tiger. All green eyes and lean muscles and surprising flexibility and he couldn't get away--even if he'd wanted to hurt her, he couldn't get away. 

And it made him think of like, Tigger and Calvin and Hobbes and it… felt nice. Like being a kid. 

"Fuck Olivia," he said. 

He hadn't needed that, nor the foreboding expectation that it would happen again. Possibly even today. 

Natalia kissed him all the time. And Frank, too. And Buzz. They were family. Like Olivia and--So, whatever. He didn't lack for parental affection. He didn't need-- But it was done. He'd opened his mouth on an impulse because of stupid Jonathan and Olivia never forgot anything. Not his birthday, not his diet. Not anything. 

It was inside him, now, another Tetris piece that didn't fit, trying to fill up something hollow. 

When he emerged into the suite again, he noticed Natalia on the balcony, watching the sunset. Olivia was in her own bathroom, already dressed for dinner in a black gown. 

"How do I look?" Olivia asked.

"You're not wearing any makeup," he said.

"You can tell, huh?"

"Yeah, I can tell."

"Good. That's what I want them to see."

He thought about how she wouldn't carry her luggage. How people had been waiting on her hand and foot.

"So you're just making yourself look weak," he said.

"Sure is easy to pretend, isn't it?"

Rafe shook his head. 

"Think of gazelles, Rafe. Antelopes? The lions pick off the weakest of the herd. They don't want to go to the effort of a hard target."

"You're making yourself one?"

"Who else? You? Your mother?"

"No!" He glanced the door. Then he met Olivia's eyes. His flash of anger echoed in the steel he saw there.

Olivia brushed past him. "We're going to the Embassy."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Olivia tried not to look at anything as she walked through the grand hall. She'd have kept her eyes closed entirely, but she'd only been to the Embassy a few times, and she was sure she'd bump into things relying on hazy memory. 

She wasn't sure, but she hoped that the fantasy she imagined, the horror, didn't match reality. But she wasn't willing to take that risk until she was firmly in the ballroom. She didn't want to bolt. 

Rafe whistled low. 

Olivia opened her eyes, taking in the ballroom. The chandelier, the flags hanging from the ceiling. American, Canadian, French. Countries she could spend all day trying to name. She stared. 

"It's hard to imagine a room this big on an island so small," Rafe said. 

"Yeah. Hard to imagine." 

"Want a drink?"

"Not yet." 

Not until the room stopped spinning. 

Rafe shrugged and wandered toward the bar. Olivia knew his order. Diet ginger ale and a lime half as big as a golf ball. She watched him move down the line, talking to the people around him. Smiling. 

She tried to smile too. And not look at the flags, inert, or the gold inlay, or the crystal sculptures. 

Natalia was already being greeted by admirers. Olivia watched. She would have to schmooze, too. Have to be at this ridiculously appointed embassy, wade through the nepotism and corruption that would make Doris Wolfe's campaigns look clean, instead of being able to rely on the police--or anyone--to just free the boy. 

"Life is bullshit," Olivia said. 

"Don't say that," Rafe said, coming back to her side. "I still have hopes." 

Olivia reached for him, cupping his cheek and pressing her forehead to his. He didn't move. He wasn't quite steadying, just still. If she leaned wrong he would leap away, she would fracture. But now he was there. She breathed in. "That's because you grew up with a family who loved you." 

He moved away, keeping his hand on her arm until she grounded herself. Then he said, "So did you?" 

She glanced at Natalia and then at the American flag. She couldn't get Jeffrey's face from her mind. As he was when she'd married him, their daughter at their side. A leader. Part of the government, with life and death in his hands. 

Rafe was looking at her with concern. He held a glass of ice water with crushed mint. 

She frowned. "That's what you ordered?"

"Olivia?" 

She wanted to tell him, this boy who went to prison for shooting Jeffrey, whose own father had been investigated for corruption, for bribery, for making threats--abusing his post and hurting the state--that she sometimes wished he hadn't have missed. 

All she said was, "I'm going to get a drink." 

* * *

Rafe was only into the second hour of his third fancy San Cristobel party with dignitaries, rich bastards, and what he was pretty sure were prostitutes, and he was already so over it. After seeing Jonathan's conditions day after day… he didn't believe in any of this. And he didn't see why Olivia did, either. She was fluttering around like she didn't have a care in the world.

He'd at least gotten to escape to the beach last night. But they were nowhere near the beach now, and Altos' daughters weren't attending. They were probably having fun somewhere else. He envied them, and his own friends back in Springfield, probably playing pool or seeing a movie or just sitting out by that pasture fence, talking.

He wished he had anyone to talk to.

He'd had Jonathan, hours ago, and this--this was what was causing Jonathan's predicament. So he hated it. He just didn't get why no one else seemed to.

Olivia came up beside him, sliding her arm around his neck, startling him.

"Rafe." Her breath was sickly sweet on his face. "You know I love you, right?"

"Get off me." He pushed at her. 

She sighed and began to stumble away.

"Hey," Rafe said. "Did you know Jonathan Randall kind of has your eyes?" 

A smile creased Olivia's lips. Red liquid sloshed out of her highball glass.

"Olivia." He kept his voice low. "Why the heck are you so drunk already?"

She lifted the glass. "My first."

He turned away, disgusted. The weird, ominous energy of the embassy radiated around him. He searched for his mother. She was across the room talking to Patrick Thorn.

Olivia continued to spin.

He stared hard at his mother until she lifted her head and looked at him. Her expression showed worry. So she noticed, too, whatever the fuck was going on. She'd been hiding. 

"Rafe," Olivia called.

He took her elbow.

Natalia whispered something to Patrick Thorn and then began to make her way to them.

"Rafe. I can trust you, can't I?"

He ignored her words but tugged at her, walking toward Natalia. 

Olivia followed. "Rafe."

Natalia reached them, all her attention on Olivia's face. 

"We should go," Rafe said. "We're not going to get anything done tonight with her like this."

Olivia was his excuse, but he was glad for any reason to get out. He felt guilty for that, even as Olivia swayed beside him. He tightened his grip.

"I don't feel so good," Olivia said.

Natalia's eyes widened. "Outside, now."

Rafe changed direction, pulling Olivia through French glass doors and onto the veranda, and then down the steps to the row of limousines and cabs. Stars shone over the ocean. He caught his breath. 

Olivia surged forward. She threw up on the lawn, stumbling to her knees. 

"What the heck?" Rafe asked.

Natalia caught Olivia's waist, keeping her from toppling too quickly to the ground. "We have to get her to a hospital."

"Okay. But what the heck?"

"Rafe. Look at her. She's been poisoned."

* * * 

Olivia sat in the backseat of a cab, looking at them curiously. Natalia stood just outside. She had one hand on Olivia's head and her other was dialing her phone.

Rafe paced in front of the car. "How do you know she's not just wasted? She's--"

"She's what, Olivia? You think she'd risk the mission for a chance to party?"

"I think the pressure got to her," he said.

"Her glass was full of cranberry juice."

"Strawberry," Olivia said.

"Whatever. There was no alcohol."

Rafe looked at Olivia skeptically.

Olivia spread her arms and slumped backward in the seat. "But I feel great!"

Natalia shook her head. She pressed the phone to her ear. 

"Who are you calling?" Olivia asked.

"Doctor Rick."

"No." Olivia groped for the phone. Her arms were like spaghetti. "He'll kill us all. You don't know his reputation."

"Olivia."

Rafe rubbed the back of his head.

"Rafe," Natalia said, sighing and shutting the phone. "You've got to go back to the party."

"What? I can't leave her like this."

"You've got to see if you can find out who did this."

"With my keen powers of observation?"

Olivia giggled.

"You're all we've got," Natalia said. "You'll be fine."

Rafe turned back to the stairs that led to the veranda.

A waiter came outside and handed Natalia a note. She frowned, reading it. Her face went white. "Antifreeze. That's all it says."

Olivia didn't comment, instead watching Rafe ascend the stairs, going back to the embassy. Her gaze narrowed. "Don't. Rafe. Come back."

"He's going in to--"

"Not the embassy. He's all alone." Olivia tried to squirm past Natalia, out of the cab. Natalia held down her arm. "Rafe. Rafe."

"He'll be okay, Olivia." Natalia grabbed Olivia's shoulders.

Olivia panted, her eyes glassy. "He can't. He--The embassy is just like prison. Rafe!" 

"No, Olivia. Not just like prison. Rafe's fine. No one hurt him. No one ever hurt him. Please, look at me." 

Olivia blinked, meeting Natalia's gaze.

"Rafe is fine." Natalia spoke slowly. "You saved him, remember? With the governor? I yelled at you? A lot?"

Olivia suddenly grinned. "I didn't care. I didn't care what you did."

Rafe disappeared through the glass doors.

"Oh, so you weren't trying to impress me?" 

Olivia glanced sideways, at the embassy. Her expression sobered. She tensed under Natalia's grip. "I visited and he was… all bruised and… I didn't want to see Rafe get hurt. Not like Jon… Jon. Johnny." She twisted toward the door again.

"Olivia!" Natalia tried to calm herself. "That wasn't your fault."

"Everything's always my fault."

"Look at me."

Olivia looked back and her expression relaxed when Natalia came into focus. "I lied. The governor--The look on your face. It was so very worth it for that look on your face." 

Natalia exhaled and reached for the cab door to close it.

Olivia grabbed her arm. "I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"Rafe going to prison. It was my fault, too."

Natalia sighed. "That was years ago, Olivia. How was it--"

"Gus was trying to help me. Even when he--Don't you see?"

"It wasn't your fault, Olivia. And… The D.A. was going to cover all that up."

Olivia laughed again. A harsh sound. "Covering it up doesn't make it go away."

"You were sick, Olivia."

"Oh, yeah. My heart rotted out."

Natalia squeezed her arm gently, and then settled next to her on the seat. "It was a birth defect."

Olivia snorted. "Stop it, Natalia. Just stop it. It's my fault this time." She lurched forward. 

Natalia guided her head to the open door and Olivia threw up. She pulled Olivia back and then dug in her purse for a wet nap. "Here. Fine. Yes, it is."

Olivia dabbed her cheeks.

Natalia rolled her eyes. "Could you just--"

"Don't say it."

"Don't say what?"

"Olivia, hold it together. Olivia, don't freak out. Olivia, don't get your gun. Can't I please? For once?"

Natalia closed the cab door and leaned over the front. "Hospital?"

The cab pulled out.

"No hospital. I feel great," Olivia said.

"Yeah, me too." Natalia began dialing her cell phone. 

"No Rick," Olivia said. "It's not my heart."

"I know it's not your heart."

Olivia sagged.

"It's the poison control center," Natalia said. "The hotel had a card for all the local emergency numbers."

"God, you're such a fucking Girl Scout."

"Keep talking."

"And you're anal retentive."

Natalia smiled. She spoke into the phone.

"Why am I doing this?" 

"I don't want you to pass out."

"Oh."

Natalia patted her leg, and said into the phone, "Yes, twice. Not… induced." She paused. "Maybe an hour ago?"

Olivia began to sing. "99 bottles of beer on the wall…"

"Olivia?"

"Hm?"

"Want to hear something funny?"

Olivia gave Natalia all of her suddenly, startlingly clear attention. "Is it about the kidnapping?"

Natalia waved the phone. "Apparently if you'd have been drinking, it would have helped dilute the effects of the antifreeze."

Olivia grinned. "See."

Natalia cupped Olivia's cheek and said into the phone, "She's had a heart transplant."

Olivia nipped at Natalia's hand.

"And a brain condition," Natalia muttered.

Olivia closed her eyes. "My head hurts. I don't feel great anymore."

"Let me hear your song."

"94 bottles of beer on the wall…"

"Yeah," Natalia said into the phone. "She's pretty disoriented, all right…"

* * *

The nausea and the visions were receding. There was only one Natalia now, looking down at her with concern. Olivia wanted to reach for her, but if she did, the room might spin out of control again. She settled for wetting her lips.

"Hi."

Natalia squeezed her hand. "You're looking better."

"Am I?"

Olivia didn't mean to let the fear creep into her voice. She felt small. She gripped Natalia's hand, letting it anchor her. Natalia's expression was clouded.

"This is familiar," Natalia said. "I hate seeing you in hospitals."

"Yeah? Join the club." 

Natalia sat on the bed. "Every time I wonder if this is it. Am I going to lose you? Right here?"

"Funny," Olivia said.

"This is funny?"

"It's just… I feel the opposite. If I wake up and see you… " Olivia took a deep breath. Her chest hurt. Her stomach hurt. "Then I know everything's going to be okay. Sometimes… That's the only reason I open my eyes at all."

"Don't say that."

"It's true."

Natalia looked down.

"Hey, don't cry. If you cry then I'll cry and it'll be stupid. Come on, I got poisoned. That's hilarious."

"It's not--"

Olivia tugged on her hand and grinned. 

"You're a mess," Natalia said.

"I'm your mess. Natalia, your logic is all flawed here. As usual. My God--"

"You've been poisoned. Someone tried to kill you. You. I am not going to--"

"Natalia."

Natalia stopped and pursed her lips, frowning.

"How many times have we been here? Dozens? Every time, I wake up and I get better. Every time, I look into your eyes."

Natalia gave her a small smile.

"Trust the pattern."

Natalia rolled her eyes.

Olivia brought Natalia's hand to her cheek and then kissed her palm. "You can't get rid of me. I'm too evil."

* * * 

Rafe sat on the suite's balcony, looking out at the ocean. He'd been listening to music, but he heard the door open behind it, and got up. 

"Ma, it's nearly sunrise."

"I told you to go to bed."

"I wanted to…" Rafe eyed Olivia, clinging weakly to Natalia's shoulder.

"Hi, Rafe. They gave me Tums," Olivia said.

"They what?"

Natalia said, "Not Tums."

Olivia furrowed her brow. "Baking soda."

"Good job."

"Is she still… crazy?"

"Just sleepy." Natalia hauled Olivia toward the bedroom.

"Do you want me to make tea or anything?"

"Just come tell us what you found at the Embassy."

"It can wait. I made notes. And it wasn't much. No grand revelations."

Olivia nodded. She sat on the bed and kicked off her shoes. 

"I'll be on the couch," Rafe said. He hesitated in the doorway. "Why would someone do this?"

Natalia met his eyes. "Because she made herself the target. She made it easy for them." She rubbed her forehead. "I wish she wouldn't--"

Rafe swallowed. "So someone could have done this to you, to like, distract her. Make her suffer. Send a message?"

"Or you."

"Not me." Rafe grinned and closed the door. 

* * * 

Olivia crossed her ankles, looking at her watch. Looking at her rings. 

Natalia rubbed her back and then unzipped her dress.

"I feel like shit," Olivia said.

"Could have been worse. They could have put you on dialysis."

"Could have been better." Olivia leaned back to press her cheek against Natalia's. "I could have been drunk."

Natalia kissed her cheek.

"Thank you," Olivia said.

"For what?"

"For saving my life. For taking care of me when I was…rambling. Rafe just thought I was a mess."

"You are a mess." Natalia hugged her shoulders. 

Olivia linked their fingers.

"I'll take care of you," Natalia said.

Olivia closed her eyes.

"You don't have to do anything."

"I'm good at that."

"Tomorrow, we'll figure out where to go from here."

Olivia nodded. "Natalia?"

Natalia breathed against her hair.

"I'm never going to that embassy again," Olivia said. 

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Rafe wore a necklace he'd picked up at the beach the day before, a scrap of leather stamped into dog's head tied to coarse string. Saint Christopher protected surfers as well as mariners. Olivia had said she hoped he hadn't paid too much for it. But worn under an expensive white silk shirt, the collar open, the black slacks, the loafers that reminded Olivia of Gus--shoes he would have worn if Alan had dressed him--Rafe felt he looked pretty good. Native, even. The sun had tanned him. His hair was growing out curly. Olivia had made fun of him, of course, unsure if they'd get him back to Springfield. Or if the Army would take him. 

And then she'd said, "Tell Jon everything," when he'd left that morning. 

He skipped the beach, he didn't wait for lunch. He went directly to jail. Before noon. He looked warily at Jonathan through the bars. 

"What's wrong?" Jonathan asked. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"Olivia. Olivia's sick."

"How sick?" Pain twisted Jonathan's face.

"You might be the only one left soon. No more Spencers. Not locals, anyway. Just Emma and Ava." Second generation. Full-blooded Americans. Like San Cristobel hadn't existed at all. 

Jonathan's lips parted. He tongued and shook his head. "No. There is... another."

"Oh, shit." The memories were vague and Rafe had to grope for them, try to hold onto them. The common knowledge that Olivia had family didn't coalesce into knowing just who, just where, but the name, so helpfully alliterative, came into his brain, without even a picture to attach to it. Except for the picture of San Cristobel, vibrant and threatening. 

Jonathan leaned forward. "Do you think--"

Rafe turned and ran up the stairs. He crashed past the guards. He pulled out his cell phone, running out onto the palace lawn, panting. "Olivia," he shouted at the phone. "Olivia, pick up."

But Olivia was across the palace lawn, near the tarmac. A Cessna had just landed. She saw Rafe. She waved.

Rafe lowered the phone, blinking against the sunlight.

Natalia was with her in a summer green dress, bare legs, her hair down and tousled. She looked as beautiful as Rafe had ever seen her. When he was little and she was his whole world, picking him up from school, buying him snacks, teaching him card games. 

She wasn't looking back at him, but at Olivia. 

Olivia watched the plane.

Robert emerged first, lowering the steps. And then a man, younger than Rafe would have thought, stepped out with long hair the color of Olivia's, with her eyes, carrying a duffel bag.

"Fuck," Rafe said.

* * * 

Sam surveyed the group assembled on the beach blanket, Chinese food cartons open between them, the afternoon sun making the noodles seem to sizzle. They'd dropped his stuff off at the Sheraton, and then Natalia, by brief introduction, had ordered Chinese.

In San Cristobel.

He didn't quite understand. But he'd eaten worse.

Olivia leaned over and nuzzled his shoulder and then smiled at him.

"I have never met... any of you people," Sam said. 

Natalia smiled.

Rafe didn't look at him at all. His gaze was on the water. 

Sam took Natalia's hand. "But I have heard all about you."

"You too." She smiled. She seemed at ease, and happy to see him, with an unconscious grace he'd never seen in his sister's presence. Not even in himself. People were cautious. Guarded. Rafe had a vibe he knew. That kind of welcomed him home. 

Sam turned to him. "Hey."

Rafe shook his hand, smirking. "Hi, Uncle Sam." 

Sam had met people that looked like these in front of him only once. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, lurking around the hospital where he'd sat by his sister's bedside. They'd been broken figures. Mourning ghosts. Ava had tried to explain, the day he met her--the day he met his sister's child, the day of the fucking funeral--that Natalia, the weeping woman, was Ava's friend. A good friend. 

But Ava had been too focused on keeping Olivia alive to really explain. 

These were not the people he had seen three years ago. Something had fundamentally changed them. Even his sister. Olivia had gone and gotten herself a family. Not the kind he ever imagined, growing up. But he already liked it better than Olivia's previous attempts.

"So," Sam asked, glancing at the beach, and then the palace high on the hill, "What's this about Little Johnny being back in town?"

* * * 

Olivia groaned. Sweat poured off her back, staining her yoga clothes. Sam, doing his downward facing dog beside her, nearly in tandem, looked more fresh. He hadn't recently been poisoned. A storm was brewing off the coast, blowing a cool breeze over them. At five in the afternoon, they'd moved off the beach and up to the suite. It should have been too hot for rooftop yoga. They should be plotting. Not exercising. 

Rafe had gone back to Jonathan to tell him everything, but was now sitting next to his mother at a patio table. He asked, "Is this even healthy?"

"Oh come on," Olivia panted. "It's like, twenty minutes. You should join us."

Rafe glanced at his mother.

"Oh, no, I am not joining them." Natalia took a sip of her pineapple juice.

"Come on, Rafe. Catch me if I fall."

Natalia nudged his foot.

"All right, all right." He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes and took his position.

Olivia and Sam straightened, raising their hands over their heads.

He raised his hands. "What, now we're doing ballet?"

"Form, Rafe," Olivia said.

He scowled, but he followed Olivia and Sam through the next five minutes of movements. He'd done yoga before, in boot camp. 

Sam said, "Okay, we're done," and hauled Olivia by the waist and dumped her into a chair next to Natalia.

Natalia smiled.

Olivia took a sip of Natalia's juice. "So much better after all that invigoration."

"It's fine without it," Natalia said.

Rafe grabbed a bottle of water. "Ma just sits there like a queen."

"She is." Olivia took Natalia's hand. "She never has to lift a finger, as far as I'm concerned."

Natalia looked down at their joined hands. "I never thought I'd hear someone like you say those words. I mean, I used to think, but--" She got up.

"I--" Olivia started, but Natalia gave her a smile and walked into the suite.

Sam raised his eyebrows.

Olivia took a sip of the pineapple juice and smiled faintly, looking at the horizon.

Rafe frowned. "Aren't you going to go after her?"

"Do you think I should, Rafe?"

He snorted and went inside.

Sam took Natalia's vacated chair and winked at his sister. "He really hates you, doesn't he?"

"Little bit." Olivia lifted her finger and thumb and pressed them together.

"But let me guess. You really love him."

"This much." Olivia spread her arms.

Sam grinned. "You know, between me, Marah… Lizzie… Ava… I think you're better with boys."

"They do remind me of men."

"Gross?"

She kicked him under the table.

He took her hand, playing with the band around her finger. "I wish I had been around for this."

"Oh, no, you don't. It was as bad as ever. All the reasons you left--That I wanted you gone--they were all worse. I was quite a beast to Natalia. And to the kid over there who hates me."

"She forgave you."

Olivia smiled and intertwined their fingers. "She's just after my money."

Sam shook his head and leaned back. "I've barely seen her and I know that's not true. She's sweet on you, sis."

"Great. And now, I think I'm going to throw up." Olivia got up and wobbled into the suite. 

Sam raised his eyebrows, but didn't pursue. He rolled up the yoga mats and put them back into the storage room, and then took the drink containers inside. Rafe was nowhere to be seen, but Olivia's bedroom door was open. Sam wandered in.

No retching. 

"Is it safe?" he called out.

"Come on in." Natalia answered.

Sam peered around the bathroom door. 

Olivia sat on the floor, her back against the bathtub. Natalia sat on the tub ledge, stroking her hair. Olivia looked wasted, but Natalia didn't look overly concerned. Just patient. 

Sam nudged Olivia's foot.

"Poisoning," she croaked.

"I see."

"Is it Sam? Samuel? Mr. Spencer?" Natalia asked.

Sam closed the toilet lid, ignoring Olivia's squeak, and sat on it. He took Natalia's hand. "Bro. Soulmate. Whatever."

Olivia scoffed.

Natalia kissed his cheek and said, "Dinner's at nine. We're ordering in."

"I may get some writing done." 

"Think that will do any good?"

"Never underestimate the power of well-written rant on San Cristobel dot Craigslist," he said.

Olivia smiled and closed her eyes.

Sam kissed his sister's head and got up, leaving the two women to whatever they were doing. He threw himself down on the suite's couch and reached for his netbook. 

"Compassion is…" he typed.

* * *

Natalia had coaxed Olivia to shower and rest before dinner. Getting Olivia to lie down meant lying down with her. They were face to face. Natalia traced Olivia's face, brushing hair out of eyes, following the nose's slope with her finger.

"I shouldn't have gone back there," Olivia said.

"To the embassy?" Natalia's concerned gaze was dark and watery. She didn't look away from Olivia's face.

"I thought it would be all right. I mean, I've been back. Jeffrey and I, we went back together--we, uh."

Natalia's fingers trailed along her jaw.

"But last night..."

"It wasn't your fault that you got poisoned."

Olivia rolled onto her back. "I was asking for it, wasn't I? Making myself the bait."

Natalia shifted closer, settling her head on Olivia's shoulder. "You were protecting your family."

"That place is made of kryptonite."

"It changed the whole game."

"It's not a game." Olivia shifted, taking Natalia into her arms.

Natalia kissed her and brought her closer, tugging until Olivia was on top of her and peppering her face with kisses. Then she smiled.

Olivia drew back to see her eyes. "We can't do this."

"Why not?"

"I was poisoned less than 24 hours ago. Sam showed up less than eight hours ago. Natalia, one more big event and my heart will burst."

Natalia smiled.

Olivia snuggled into her.

Natalia tugged at her collar. "Let's go then."

"We don't have to get out of bed."

Natalia squeezed her ass.

"We really don't have to--"

"We're going to order more pizza and watch the sunset."

"And hold hands?" Olivia asked.

"Until the tides stop."

Olivia kissed Natalia's neck. Then muttered, "Crap."

"What?"

"We're in the penthouse of the best hotel in San Cristobel and I can't eat any of its food?"

"I don't want you to get poisoned again. This isn't fool-proof, but… it's much harder for them. And hey, I'll make sure you get variety. There's a McDonalds down by the beach."

Olivia grumbled.

Natalia pushed Olivia onto her back and then got up. "Go get cozy. I'll call for pizza, then I need to call Frank."

"This night keeps getting better and better."

"You're the one that didn't want to have sex."

"And I'm never going to hear the end of that."

* * *

Olivia and Natalia were curled up on the chaise lounge on the balcony, sleeping. Pizza crusts and bottled water littered the table. The stars had risen over the ocean and a breeze blew. The storm had stayed off-shore, and was heading toward Cuba by morning. 

Rafe sighed and draped a blanket over them. His mother seemed small and slender, tucked against Olivia. The year she had been pregnant with Francesca she'd seemed more imposing. Olivia had been no match for her. But now they fit.

"I don't get it," he said.

Sam peered down at them. "Olivia does a lot of things no one gets."

"My mother's motives have usually been pretty clear to me."

Sam nodded, but didn't say anything.

Rafe pushed him.

"I just--For a long time I never got Olivia. I mean, she was nice to me and everything, but outside of that I just figured her for a barracuda," Sam said. "She got along better with Jon. They were both… idiots." 

"Yeah."

"But I was wrong, I guess."

"Is that why you left and never came back?"

Sam looked down. He put his arm around Rafe's shoulders and walked them into the suite. Then he glanced back, through the glass doors.

"I didn't mean--" Rafe started.

"No, you're right. I've seen my sister fall in love with a lot of good people. And screw it up. Willingly. With great planning and forethought and being a massive bitch."

Rafe nodded.

"So why is Natalia here?" Sam asked.

"You mean when, like, Josh Lewis isn't?"

"Right."

Rafe threw himself onto the couch. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it sullen, with his leg draped over the arm of the couch and his hands folded over his stomach. He looked up at Sam, who stood, waiting.

"My mom left Olivia," Rafe said.

"What?"

"She thought she was going to screw up Olivia's life by being pregnant--Obviously Olivia didn't get her pregnant--so she left town. I don't know what the heck she was thinking. Why she even thought she could stay away--from me, from Olivia, from Frank and Alan, even. Everyone she knew in the world. Though I guess she did it before."

"How'd sis take it?"

"How do you think, man? Olivia's either broken or trying to break something."

"So Natalia cheated?"

Rafe shook his head. "It was like, before. Just bad timing."

Sam nodded. "How'd you take it?"

"Whatever. I was barely sober, anyway. And living with Frank. If I had a choice between my Ma around, but holding hands with Olivia at the supermarket, or not having her at all..."

Sam sat in an armchair and looked at him.

"What? Tell me all the stupid shit you did at 19."

Sam grinned. "Later. So, how did they get back together?"

"I don't know. Ma like, pursued her. Made her agree to it. Ma's pretty good at getting Olivia to do things. No one thought it was a good idea, but that's what Ma does. She goes after it."

"When most people are done with Olivia, they're done."

"That's because she's spooky, man."

"Well, exact--"

"But, no," Rafe said. He sat up, so he was even with Sam's gaze. "You're so wrong. Phillip is over like, all the time. And the Mayor--who hates everyone. And we go to the Spauldings. For Emma's sake--I guess for mine--we go. And Josh is away, but they talk on the phone. Buzz, like, takes care of all of us. All of us, but even though he loves me, and Ma, he loves Olivia best. Even Bill--"

"Even Bill? Bill Lewis?"

"I guess it helps that Jonathan's around now, actually. He kind of makes everything saner."

Sam sighed.

"We're a family," Rafe said. "Where the heck have you been?"

"I've been being where Olivia wants me to be. Happy and whole and doing good in the world."

"And you can't do that around her?"

"Do you know what I've done for Olivia? I helped her kidnap her daughter. Lie to people I care about. That she cares about. Make deals with criminals and killers." Sam shook his head. "Look, the world's a bigger place. Isn't that why you joined the army?"

Rafe tightened his arms.

"And why Ava moved to San Francisco?"

"Do you know Ava?"

"Yeah. I've been out to see her a few times. We met when ah, Gus Aitoro died. The very day. I mean, that was weird. But I knew about her. She's just like us. Do you know her?"

"She talked Olivia into helping me get to Greece."

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"A couple months after my dad died. That summer. I was going to get arrested and--" Rafe didn't know how to explain.

"When Jeffrey O'Neill got shot? Olivia called me, like, freaking out."

"When I shot him." 

Sam leaned back in his chair.

"I nearly killed Ava's dad and she's like, in pieces, and she talked Olivia into giving me money. Because it was the right thing, or whatever."

"See. She's just like us," Sam said.

"What, like good people?"

Sam nodded.

"You guys are nuts. Olivia killed my dad, I wasn't going to--" he hesitated.

"Forgive her?"

"Maybe if it was an accident. But it wasn't. She wanted everything from him, even what was mine and Ma's. And she got it." Rafe exhaled. 

There was silence. Sam looked away, toward the interior of the suite, into the darkness where the kitchenette was. His eyes gleamed.

"Man, are you crying?" Rafe asked.

"I'm just thinking about Olivia's face, after she found out he was dead. She wanted so badly to--You should have seen it."

Rafe's chest constricted. "I did," he managed to say. 

Sam looked back. "You did?"

"I saw Olivia a lot in the hospital. You're right. She was totally non-functional."

"That was guilt."

"I was so messed up when Gus died. I mean, I was just getting to know him, he and my mother had just gotten married. It was so confusing. Who was this guy that everyone was so sad about? I couldn't breathe. Ma couldn't breathe. Sometimes the only direction I could look in was Olivia, because she was in so much pain. She felt awful. And I felt awful. And she was so selfish, so I could be, too. She made things easier."

Sam raised his eyebrows.

Rafe felt like his face was burning, but Sam was barely looking at him. "She always makes things easier, all right?"

"For me, too."

"And for Ava, and Emma, and my mother. My mother doesn't have a lot of friends. Not real ones. She likes Olivia."

Sam nodded. He glanced at the two women outside, and then at Rafe. "Get off the couch."

"What?"

"I'm going to sleep."

"You can have the other room, if you want. I mean, you're Olivia's brother."

"And you're her favorite son. Which trumps?"

Rafe straightened. "Or loser junkie nephew?"

"Jonathan isn't actually related. And our sister's dead." Sam crossed himself, ignoring the way Rafe's eyes widened. "That'll make things easier."

"Easier?"

"To find out why they're doing this to our family. And to get Jon free."

"So they can come after you? Or me?" Rafe thought about how they'd come after Olivia already. It had been so close. 

"I doubt anyone in San Cristobel knew Olivia had a son. But they do now. You probably shouldn't have come."

Rafe scowled. "I made them bring me."

"Why?"

"To make Olivia prove she loved me just as much as Randall."

"You're definitely sleeping on the couch." Sam headed toward the bedroom.

"Hey, you haven't been home in three years!"

Sam turned in the doorway. "All the better not to hurt her again, right?"

Rafe leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "She barely noticed you were gone."

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Olivia rubbed her eyes against the orange light. "It's barely dawn. Why am I up?"

"You went to sleep early, and then I dragged you out of bed," Sam said.

Olivia nodded. Or rather, let her head loll forward.

"We need to talk before they wake up."

"They won't like it." Olivia turned to meet her brother's eyes. "Natalia will yell."

"It doesn't matter. Let's get it done before they wake up and they'll have no choice."

"My life isn't like that anymore."

"What about Jonathan's life?"

Olivia scowled.

Sam leaned across the table and took her hand. "His mother is sick."

"I know that."

"We're the real targets, anyway. Let me switch places with Jonathan. Why won't Altos tell us? Why not just say whatever it is he wants from us? Why the terrorizing?"

"Because." Olivia squeezed his fingers, then brought them to her lips. "He's just that petty and bored. He wants to know how important he is. But he's afraid of us."

Sam snorted. "He must have a reason. People always had reasons. I mean you--" he stopped.

"Exactly. Maybe it really is all about that time I spilled milk on him at lunch at school. Deliberately."

"Really?"

"I'm sure I did a lot of fantastic things to a lot of fantastic people."

"You figure it out. I'll be writing an article."

"So you just want the experience? Not a selfless act after all. My brother."

Sam grinned. "I like being a hero."

"I don't." Olivia closed her eyes and tilted her face toward the sun.

"It's better this way. Send Jonathan home. It should be a family affair," Sam said.

"You sound like Rafe."

Sam nodded. "He's one of us. And here I thought you were known for your daughters." 

"Please. Marmee? The great American woman?" 

"Mrs. Bennett. Old World." 

Olivia sighed. 

Sam took her hand. "They are beautiful, and they will marry well." 

"Jesus, Sam. I hope they never get married." 

* * * 

Rafe, showered and dressed, came onto the balcony around ten. "Why are you awake?"

Olivia and Sam were curled up together on the lounge. 

"We have a plan," Olivia said.

Rafe frowned.

Sam laughed. "See? He knows you so well."

"I'm going to get my mother." Rafe went inside.

"'I'm going to get my mother'," Olivia mimicked.

Sam hugged her. 

Natalia, in a dressing gown and robe, hair tousled, sleep still in her eyes, came onto the balcony, Rafe skulking behind her.

Olivia's breath caught.

"You have to tell her," Sam said against her ear.

"No. She's beautiful. I'm not going to risk it."

"Maybe she'll like the plan."

Rafe scoffed.

Natalia narrowed her eyes. She reached out her hands to Olivia, who took them. Natalia pulled her up, until they were standing nose to nose. 

"Tell me," Natalia said.

Olivia took a deep breath.

Natalia squeezed.

"Sam's going to switch places with Jonathan so Jonathan can go home."

"No," Natalia said.

Olivia nodded.

Natalia shook her head.

Olivia kept nodding, so Natalia looked past her, to Sam.

Sam nodded.

"God, two of you," Natalia said.

"There's two of us, Ma," Rafe said.

"What's the alternative?" 

"I'll go. Not Sam," Rafe said.

"No," three voices said.

"To heck with you guys." Rafe left the balcony, and then the suite, slamming the door. 

Sam got up and put his hand over Natalia's, on Olivia's back.

"I don't know you," Natalia said.

"Sure you do."

* * *

By three, Sam had been arrested. Olivia and Natalia escorted him to the dungeon, along with the police commissioner. Rafe had been with Jonathan since he'd heard the plan. Jonathan looked relieved. Almost happy, trembling with his fear of hope. 

"Hey, little brother," Sam said. He lifted his handcuffed wrists and smiled.

Jonathan stood to clutch the bars. "What are you doing?" 

"This is payback for that time I tied you to the docks while the tide came in. Remember that?" Sam asked.

Olivia smacked Sam.

"It was a dare," Jonathan said. "He wanted to see if I'd wet my pants. If I didn't, I got ten bucks."

"Did you?" Rafe asked.

"No. Didn't get the money, either. Jackass."

Sam ducked.

Jonathan said, "I was ten. If I freaked out like that when dad was hitting me, he'd call me a girl."

"You should have told me," Sam said.

"So I could go to boarding school like you? That's worse. A prison sentence. Er." He glanced at Rafe, and then Sam. "Besides, I got you back, remember?"

Sam glanced around the dungeon and grinned. "The honey-covered cockroaches."

"Enough already. Let me out!"

The commissioner tossed handcuffs through the bars. "Put those on. You'll wear them until you get on the plane."

Jonathan scowled but manacled his wrists in front of him. The commissioner opened the bars. Jonathan ran through them, then up the stairwell. 

Natalia gasped.

"I knew he'd do that," The commissioner said. "Robert will take care of him. He'll hold the plane until you say goodbye."

Rafe folded his arms.

Sam stepped into the cell. 

The commissioner closed and chained the gate. Then he gestured and Sam put his wrists near the bars and got his cuffs unlocked. Sam rubbed his wrists.

Olivia turned away before she began to cry, burying her face in Natalia's hair. Natalia held her, but her gaze was on Sam's face. Boring into him.

"Oh, I get it," he said. "Natalia?"

"Yes?" She reached through the bars so he could take her hand, with Olivia trembling between them.

He squeezed her fingers. "Get me out of here."

* * * 

Jonathan leaned against the airplane hull, looking sheepish as Olivia, Natalia, and Rafe emerged from the palace.

"I couldn't really be sure no one would change their minds," he said.

Olivia smiled. "No one's going to change their minds."

"Hi, Olivia." He lifted his handcuffed wrists and she ducked under them, hugging him tightly.

Robert unlocked the handcuffs.

"Jon," Olivia said, "I love you, I do, but maybe you should shower before you do anything else."

"No way. I am getting on that plane."

"Swim in the ocean?" Rafe suggested.

Jonathan shook his head, but reached past Olivia, offering his hand.

Rafe shook it.

"Nice meeting you, baby cousin."

"I'm not a--"

Natalia nudged Rafe.

Jonathan grinned. "What do you think of San Cristobel?"

Rafe shrugged. "It's not home."

"Damn right."

Olivia tilted her head back, smiling. Jonathan kissed her forehead. He loomed large and bearish in the sunlight. His clothes were monochromatically dirt-colored and stained with sweat.

"Thank you, thank you," Jonathan said. He brought Olivia closer for another crushing hug.

"Wasn't me." She gestured at Natalia.

"Oh, I didn't…" Natalia trailed off.

Olivia snorted.

Jonathan beckoned Natalia into the hug.

Natalia bit her lip. 

He wiggled his fingers.

She stepped closer, and was enveloped in his arms, his smell overcoming her. Then Olivia embraced her, too. That was better.

"Free babysitting for a year," Natalia said.

"Forever," Jonathan said.

Olivia rested her head against Jonathan's shoulder, smiling at Natalia. Natalia knew that smile. She cupped Olivia's cheek.

Jonathan backed away as Olivia leaned into kiss her.

"I think that's my cue," Jonathan said.

"Yeah," Rafe said. "I don't know how they get anything done, either."

Olivia turned her head. "Jonathan, I'll see you soon, okay?"

"I'll be waiting for you. All of you." He saluted, then stepped into the plane.

Robert followed him and closed the hatch.

Natalia looked from Olivia to Rafe. She raised her eyebrows.

He jerked his head at Olivia, and then at her. "This is how it should be."

"Almost," Olivia said. 

Natalia leaned into her.

Rafe exhaled, but nodded.

They went back down into the dungeon. 

* * * 

Emma had been in Company's kitchen for ten minutes when Buzz came out. Without her.

Ava frowned at him.

"She's with Frank. Don't worry."

"She's with Frank? Don't worry?"

He leaned over the booth to kiss Francesca's head. Francesca reached for him. 

"Can I?" he asked.

"Of course."

He scooped Francesca into his arms. "You're so big now."

"Buzzzzzzz," Francesca said.

"That's me." He danced around with her, working his way toward the bar.

Ava found herself alone at the table. She pulled out her cell phone. No messages. She dialed Olivia's number. No answer.

"Hi, Mom, it's me. Just checking in. Everything's fine here. It's a little boring. It's Frank's night. He's going to take Emma, too, and I'm going to hit the Springfield night life. I think Dinah and I are going to do something, actually, since she's around. Surprise! God, Mom, could you live in a smaller town? Please call me back."

Buzz brought Francesca back and set her in the baby seat and handed her a crayon.

"She may scribble on your table."

"That's fine with me."

Ava smiled.

Buzz sat down across from her. "Any word from Olivia?"

"No."

"What has she told you about what's going on?" 

"Not much. Just, get to Springfield, here's your plane ticket. Is she really in San Cristobel?"

Buzz nodded.

"It seems so unreal. And--" she bit her lip.

"And?"

Francesca threw her crayon on the table.

Ava passed her a cardboard book with a rabbit on the cover.

"Book," Francesca said.

Buzz ruffled her hair, still looking expectantly at Ava.

"And--Why didn't she take me?"

"You were in San Francisco."

"And now I'm here. I could just as easily be there."

"Saw through that one, didn't you?"

Ava pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jonathan's my friend, not Rafe's. I owe him."

"Your mother loves you. She didn't want you in harm's way. And she trusted you with Emma."

"So," Ava said.

Buzz raised his eyebrows.

"She loves me more than Rafe?"

Buzz grinned.

"Whatever. I just wish she'd tell me what was going on."

"Olivia plays her cards close to the chest. Always has. Makes her full of surprises."

"Yeah. Sometimes surprises are bad."

Buzz nodded. "There are things I wish she would have told me."

They watched Francesca.

Francesca showed Ava a picture of a turtle in the book.

"Turtle," Ava said.

Francesca showed Buzz.

"Turtle," he said. "You know, there's only one person I know more secretive about ordinary damn feelings than Olivia."

Ava raised her eyebrows.

"Natalia." He smiled.

She nodded. 

He sighed and leaned back. "I guess I thought Frank would be good in that regard. He shares so much. Loves so freely."

"He was. He just had the wrong equipment. Who knew?"

Buzz snorted. "Who knew?"

Ava peered past him, toward the kitchen.

"Emma's fine," Buzz said. "Olivia wants her to hone her cooking skills. She likes helping. Frank's overprotective. All is well. He got his other daughters through this place, remember?"

Ava smiled. "It's just--Olivia wants her to cook?"

"And be president."

"And Emma?"

"Would rather be an astronaut. Or a singer."

Ava nodded. 

"What about you?"

"What do I want Emma to be when she grows up?"

"What do you want to be?"

Ava shook her head. "I don't want to fall behind. That's all. I don't want to slip back."

Buzz looked at her curiously.

"I'm fine, but--Without Olivia's help, would I be? I don't know. And before you ask, no, I don't want to work in the hotel industry."

"Who does? Only people as insane and hard-working as Olivia and Cassie could pull that off. Heavy on the insane."

Ava smiled.

Emma came out of the kitchen, smiling and carrying a lasagna with oven mitts.

"Oh God, the smell is divine," Ava said.

Emma beamed at her.

Buzz tossed trivets onto the table. Emma set the lasagna down.

"Good job," Buzz said, and hugged her.

"Thank you, Grandpa Buzz."

Ava snickered.

Buzz slapped his forehead. 

Frank brought plates and silverware. "Emma's going to be the perfect little wife someday."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"Frank," Buzz complained.

Ava shrugged. "Have you noticed that Rafe, Jonathan, and apparently even Sam are over there, while Emma, Francesca, and I are here? Just a little sexist."

Emma nodded. "It's so true, you guys."

Francesca gave Ava a wide-eyed, alert stare.

"Olivia worries about you," Buzz said.

"But that's not fair," Ava said.

"We should go over there. Can we, Ava?" Emma asked.

Frank winced.

"It would take us like, at least until tomorrow night to get all the way there," Ava said, "And by then they'd be on their way back."

Emma sighed. "But they're at the beach."

"I know," Ava said.

"You girls can take comfort in knowing that Springfield's a pretty dangerous place, too. Look at all that's happened in your lives," Buzz said.

"Good point," Ava said.

Frank grimaced and began serving. 

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Rafe settled himself into the overstuffed chair across Altos' desk. He'd dressed up for this. Late afternoon tea with the prime minister's chief of staff. He wore a white silk shirt Olivia had bought him from one of the hotels, and dress pants from the one suit he'd brought with him. Television had taught him that. Suit up. But Olivia was still impressed. He smiled.

Altos folded his hands. Wouldn't even sit next to him, like a peer. Instead, Rafe felt like a schoolboy in trouble. He wanted to tug at the seashell necklace around his throat. But he kept his hands still.

Olivia had taught him--

He grinned. Olivia had taught him. She wouldn't let him trade places with Jonathan. But she'd let him do this.

"Thanks for coming," Altos said. He had on a suit far more expensive than Rafe's, and he was sweating in it. He gestured at the tray. White wine--San Cristobel's own shitty vintage--and cookies. Things Rafe wouldn't waste his time eating.

He wanted to say, "I can't eat that stuff, man," but he didn't. He restrained himself. Instead, the annoyance channeled to his expression. Contempt.

Olivia had taught him contempt.

Instead of anger. It was a step.

Altos pressed his fingers together. "I can't imagine how you got mixed up in all this, Mr. Rivera."

Rafe shrugged. "Tell me about it."

"I do know that Olivia Spencer is not your favorite person."

Rafe looked at Altos sideways. "How do you know that?"

"Is she anyone's?" 

"Good point." 

"Wouldn't you like to break from her? She can be so… sordid. This little deal with her brother..."

"Sordid. That's a good word for it."

"Would you have other words, Mr. Rivera?"

Rafe leaned back and folded his arms. "How about perverted."

Altos nodded.

"Evil. Bitchy. Greedy."

"Greedy," Altos echoed.

"She wants everything. She takes and she takes--" Rafe bit his lip. Faltered. His words felt too real for this.

"I can help you," Altos said.

Rafe said nothing.

"You and your mother can move back to Chicago. Have the lifestyle to which you've become accustomed." 

Scrambled eggs and laundry day and the old barn. Rafe smirked. And better wine than this. 

Altos smiled.

"What would I have to do?" Rafe asked.

"Leave. And take your mother with you."

Leaving Olivia exposed. Alone. "And Sam?"

"I imagine he'd stay. We don't care about him."

"You should. He's not some frat boy adventurer. Not some basement blogger. He's an investigative reporter. Investigating." Rafe hissed out the word.

Olivia Spencer, dragging the full potential out of anyone she got close to. Like his mother. Natalia excelling where Bill and Josh Lewis had both failed her. Jonathan had told him that yesterday. Had told him all about ambition and business and Olivia.

"The next Anderson Cooper?" Altos asked.

"Try Seymour Hersh."

Altos shook his head. "We don't care about Sam Spencer."

"Like you didn't care about Jonathan Randall." 

Altos folded his hands. "Exactly. Not in the slightest."

"Or about me." Rafe settled. "So you want us to leave. Screw Olivia over. How much?"

Altos handed him a slip of paper with a number on it. Like the movies. Rafe snorted and put it into his shirt pocket. 

"You can use that to go back to your life. Or stay here, and see how far it would stretch. Either way, compared to Natalia Rivera, compared to your whole life, Olivia's just a little blip. Just a stranger. Why should either of us let her get in our way? I'm so close, Mr. Rivera. So close to changing everything."

Now that he had the offer, Rafe could let his contempt leak. He had what he'd come for. Now he could be himself. "Olivia wasn't a stranger. Even from the beginning, she was always there. In my life, on the periphery. Pushing to be more. And now she'll never let me go, Altos. Don't you get it? I'm her only son. Sam Spencer--Johnny--they just show she wanted one. But she never really had one. I'm it."

Altos wasn't moved by his words. Which just made Rafe want to punch him.

"That's the problem with you guys, isn't it? No concept of family. She's never a stranger. What, did she pick on you when you were kids? Did she tease you, but never let you have her? Was she no fun? Was she better than you? Is that what you want now? To be just like her? Rich and stupid?"

"I think we're done here," Altos said. His face flushed. 

"Yeah, I think we are." Rafe got up. He gestured at the tray next to him. "Cookies and wine? Really? You know what this island has to offer? The body is a temple, man."

Altos looked away.

Rafe went to the door. 

"Mr. Rivera?"

Rafe hesitated on the threshold.

"Tell me," Altos asked. "Did Olivia fuck your father while he was still married to your mother?"

Rafe didn't glance back. "No, you sick bastard. She was dying."

He tried not to let it be anger, to not give Altos that, but it was hot and crawling all over his skin. Twisting his stomach. He moved out of sight, lest he start yelling. Lest he start whining.

Alan had done that to his family. His own goddamn grandfather had twisted up Olivia and Gus and his mother. Just like Altos. For his own amusement. And twisted Emma and him in the process. And so Olivia had used all her remaining energy to smile. To sit on park benches. To stand up to him, when she couldn't stand.

She hadn't had enough strength to fight off his mother after all that. 

How many days had his grandfather sucked from Olivia's life--from Gus's life--with his stupid little project… Rafe made a fist, pressed it into the wall of the hallway until his knuckles hurt. Then, with the pain focusing him, he retreated from the palace. He walked down to the beach, nearly two miles, sweating when he got there. The beach was nearly empty. Tourists had left for their ships or their early dinners. Locals knew better. 

He seethed. 

He pulled off his shirt, conscious that it was delicate, that Olivia had bought it for him. He laid it carefully in the sand and then sprawled beside it, face--first. The sand burned his chest, roughed his cheeks. Made him cough as he breathed. The sun beat down on him. Burned him hotter than the anger.

The waves--All he could hear was waves. The sweat poured from him, making him slick. People walked by, laughing.

A foot nudged his calf. A shadow lingered.

He rolled onto his back.

Olivia stood above him. She looked amused. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Looking for you. No one's seen you in an hour, you weren't answering your phone. I thought maybe Altos…" She looked toward the ocean.

He coughed and rubbed his cheeks. Sand coated his fingers. "Sorry." He squinted at her, but the sun was blinding.

She stepped casually around him until his face was shadowed. He blinked, seeing spots, and then her, in the dark.

"Yeah, I was with Altos," he said.

"He wants you to betray us?"

Us. "Yeah. But whatever he offered, I figured you'd double it, anyway." 

"And how much was that?"

"Fifty grand." He lifted himself up by his elbows, thinking of the piece of paper in his shirt. 

Olivia snorted. "I'd quadruple it. Cheap bastard."

Rafe sat up, turning to look at the ocean. "I don't think it's like that. I don't think he's all that rich. He has all this stuff, but--I think he knows it. He's not, uh, worldly. He wants to be. He wants money. More than fifty Gs."

Olivia kicked off her sandals and sat down next to him, smoothing her skirt. She managed to look both prim and wild. She focused on the waves. "Probably," she said. "He lay out his plan?"

"No. I think that information is for you alone, Olivia. This is like, some mobster fairy tale."

"It isn't pretty."

He nodded. The tide was coming in. They'd have to move soon. He glanced at her.

"What did you talk about?" she asked.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She closed her eyes. "Of course."

"Did you sleep with my father?"

She shook her head, even before the denial reached her lips. "No."

"But--"

She exhaled, glanced at him again. "Look, Gus wasn't in a very good spot. He had a son in trouble, two other sons he couldn't see as much as he wanted. The divorce was killing him. Alan--"

"I know about Alan."

"It's not good to hate your father, Rafe. It eats at you."

Rafe nodded, looking back at the ocean.

"Natalia was his refuge, for a while. I think that's what he wanted. That he would have built with her. If I had--"

"Yeah," he said.

"I think they could have made it work. In time. But there wasn't time. He was hurting, Natalia was hurting, I was--I was something he could do and feel good about himself."

Rafe's eyes widened.

"Poor choice of words. But whatever you saw, Rafe, I was charity work. He was a cop. That's what cops do. They throw themselves into impossible situations and try to help. And yeah, I desired him, and that probably felt good."

"My mother desired him."

"Everyone desired him." She chuckled. "Rafe, it's not like it was Gus or no one. I--Hell, even Natalia caught me once with a couple of--anyway. Gus was safe. Chivalrous. That does actually matter. More than you know."

"What about Josh? Or Buzz?"

Olivia was silent. She covered her heart with her hand. He thought she wasn't going to answer, and he looked away. He'd gone too far.

Her voice was almost a whisper. "I didn't want them to see me sick. I didn't want to break their hearts. That would make everything real. Gus was a fantasy. Buzz--after Jenna--it might have killed him. I couldn't do that. And I didn't--I thought I was going to get better. Why worry them for nothing? Gus had found out accidentally, so that was okay. That, I could tolerate. Almost. But not Josh, not Ava… I was going to get better. I couldn't face it." 

He didn't look at her, but asked, because the silence made his chest hurt, "What are you thinking? Right now?"

"I'm thinking about dancing with Buzz on my wedding day. It was the last thing--before I was in the hospital. The last real moment of my life. That was okay with me. I could let go. I wasn't happy but it was the best I could do. With my life."

He nodded. More silence. Then Olivia's hard tone was back. "Spit it out, Rafe."

"Gus chose it, though. To spend time with you, rather than my mother. Or me." He felt three years old.

"Wouldn't you? If your friend was dying, and your wife--your happiness--that would have made you feel selfish."

Rafe bit his lip. He'd broken up with Daisy when his mother needed him. At least until he'd gotten himself arrested. 

"What is it, Rafe?"

"I just--it's weird when I find out these things I have in common with my father. Like, little things. Things that really matter. I mean, I barely knew him. He didn't like, shape me. But DNA, or something."

He didn't want her to tell him how much he reminded her of Gus. And she didn't. She just stroked the side of his head, and then let him go, to smile and stare at the ocean. 

Rafe resisted the urge to smooth his hair. He said, "Altos made me understand. Why you do some of the things you do."

"Don't. Don't, Rafe."

"Things are so crazy."

"Whatever you think, I've done a lot of bad things," Olivia said. "Even just for the money. Just like him."

"I know. But not anymore."

She smiled.

He smiled back, making his face hurt, trying to hold her attention in this place, and not the other. Wherever that was. The shadows that pulled at her.

She indulged him. "I wasn't happy. I mean, Emma makes me happy. Sammie… Ava. The first time I was ever truly happy, outside of my children, I was sitting with your mother. Your mother was holding my hand. And we were… we were in a church." Olivia laughed. 

"Do you know the first time my mother was truly happy?"

Olivia tilted her head. 

"The day you moved into the farmhouse. That Christmas. After everything--Gus, me, she finally made a home. I could hear the joy in her voice when she told me. She came to prison and she like, glowed or something. It was a new experience. For both of us."

Olivia looked back at the waves.

Rafe reached for his shirt. He was going to be burned to a crisp.

"What about you, Rafe?"

"I'll let you know."

She nodded.

They were going to have a thing. Rafe could sense it. The crescendo. The tension. Olivia never forgot anything. Not his birthday, not his favorite food, not--Her arm slid around his shoulder. He let himself be pulled sideways, until her lips brushed his temple.

"I love you," she said.

He squirmed, thinking they weren't quite settled yet. Her arm dropped from his shoulders and he twisted, so he could hug her properly. He took her in his arms until her head was against his chest. So he was the strong one. The soldier. She'd been proud of him when he enlisted. Had made his mother accept it, too. Probably thinking he could turn his life around.

Proud, just like Alan. 

His chest constricted, but he couldn't say those words. Too awkward. He couldn't go there. Maybe when he was more like her. Maybe when he was older. He lifted his hand so she could see it in front of her. Thumb and index finger out. Pinkie raised. 

She brought his hand to her chest, pressing over her heart.

* * * 

In the bedroom, Natalia opened the manila envelope. "Dinner's at eight aboard the Reine Des Fees yacht."

"I'm not going to any more damn dinners."

Natalia settled behind Olivia, rubbing her shoulders. "You have to."

"They poisoned me at the last one!"

"I'll taste all your food for you." Natalia kissed Olivia's neck.

"You will do no such thing." But Olivia covered Natalia's hand on her shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Don't you want to find out who poisoned you? Look, Jonathan's free, Sam is apparently right where you want him... We're so close."

"Close to getting everyone killed. I can't do that, Natalia. Screw dinner. Let's just bribe the guards, take Sam, and leave."

"Olivia, you are a lot of things..."

Olivia snorted.

Natalia squeezed. "But you never think short term. They'll keep coming after you."

"Let them come after me."

"And if Jonathan gets hurt in the process? Or your brother?"

"Or the children?"

Natalia kissed Olivia's hair.

"Wait--La Reine Des Fees--Why do I know that name?"

Natalia slipped off the bed and brought Olivia the laptop. She tapped the space bar until the screen came up and typed Reine Des Fees in the upper right hand corner and jabbed enter. Natalia went to the closet.

"Here's the registry," Olivia said. "It used to be owned by... Edmund Winslow. Of course."

"But now?"

"His former attache... That's so very nice of him. Patrick Thorn."

"See?" Natalia held out a gown from the closet. "Don't you want to go now?"

"Oh, I'm sure you do. You and Patrick are so chummy."

Natalia smiled.

Olivia tossed her hair and regarded the gown. "I am not wearing that."

* * *

Rafe and Olivia were talking in hushed voices that stopped when Natalia came onto the balcony. She frowned.

"Hi, Ma," Rafe said, rubbing the back of his head.

Olivia crossed her legs and looked at the sea.

"What's going on?"

Rafe looked down.

"You know how I said we should bribe the guards and get out of here?" Olivia said.

"I do."

"It's not the first time." Olivia looked at Rafe.

Natalia sat down next to Olivia.

"It was Olivia's idea," Rafe said.

"And you went along."

"He's been testing the guards. Seeing what their prices are. Finding out which ones can't be bought, so we can dig up information on them. To--" Olivia hesitated.

"To blackmail them?" Natalia asked.

"To find other angles."

Rafe sighed. "Anyway, I'm in pretty good with a couple of them. And Sam's been writing. He's got a laptop in there and everything. No wireless, but--" He held up a thumb drive.

"We can get this on the internet tonight, in the papers by morning. If we need to." Olivia said.

"To what end?"

"To embarrass the government, to hurt tourism, to create an international incident. Jailed journalist. Poor conditions."

"It seems a little heavy-handed," Natalia said.

"Just another weapon in our arsenal."

"Weapons."

"There's more." Olivia leaned to take Natalia's hands.

"More than bribery, blackmail, and the nuclear option?"

"On Reine Des Fees? If we find who we want... I may have to make a scene."

Natalia rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I didn't want to go."

"It's our best chance," Natalia said.

Rafe closed his fist around the thumb drive.

"I'll order food. We should eat before the yacht."

"What are we having?" Olivia asked.

"Taco Bell." Natalia disappeared into the suite.

"She hates me," Olivia said.

"You're kind of obnoxious." Rafe turned on his iPod.

"Kettle, pot." Olivia plucked an earbud from Rafe's ear and put it to her own. "What are you listening to? French lessons?"

"I still don't know what La Reine des Fees is."

"Or how to pronounce it."

Rafe snorted.

Olivia put the earbud back in Rafe's ear.

"I figured it might be useful."

"If you learn French, Rafe, enough to pass my tests... I'll take you to France. Paris, Normandy, the Riviera, Lyon..."

Rafe grinned. "Awesome. Can Ashlee come?"

Olivia headed into the suite. "I don't even want to know."

* * *

"Slacks," Olivia said, looking at the bed, where Natalia had laid out a black pants suit and a deep blue shirt.

"That's what you get for rejecting the gown. All the better to cause a scene with."

"You do hate me, don't you?"

"You have taco breath."

Olivia closed her mouth. Then raised her hand and huffed on it.

Natalia smiled and went to the closet.

"What are you wearing?" Olivia asked.

"This." Natalia held out a black evening gown, covered with crystals that gleamed like diamonds in the light. The fabric had a slit that Olivia guessed would go all the way up the thigh, and Olivia was pretty sure the dress was backless.

"That is not what you usually wear."

"I thought I'd make a scene, too."

"I'm not sure I can let you leave the suite in that. And I know you didn't bring it with you."

"I bought it."

"On the island?"

"On one of the cruise ships."

"How much?"

"When I was a maid...about three months salary."

Olivia gaped. "Why don't you do this more often?"

Natalia's face clouded. "I have my reasons."

"Tell me."

"Maybe when we're old and gray."

"But--"

Natalia placed her fingers on Olivia's mouth. "We're here, and your brother is in prison and you've been poisoned and Rafe's been running all over town. It's time to do my part."

"I don't want you to--" Olivia mumbled.

"I don't care."

Olivia kissed her fingers.

Natalia dipped down and replaced her fingers with her lips.

Olivia smiled. "Put that on."

Natalia glanced at the suit on the bed.

Olivia followed her gaze. "Where's my cigar and fedora?"

"You can pull this off," Natalia said.

"Oh, you bet I can."

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

The yacht was dwarfed by the nearby cruise ship in San Cristobel's man-made bay, but it still loomed ostentatiously as Natalia walked up the gangplank, toward the tinkling music and lights. The storm clouds that had gathered at sunset, setting the sky ablaze with pink, lingered, giving the midnight blue evening streaks of darkness. There was no moon. The yacht had all the light there was, and yet, Natalia hesitated.

Olivia's hand touched her back.

"How much does a yacht like this cost?"

"17 million?"

"Olivia, I think we're poor. What would you do with that kind of money?"

"Buy another hotel." Olivia kissed her cheek.

Natalia smiled.

"Or five."

Altos greeted them on deck. "I'm so glad to see you're feeling better."

"Do you ever take a night off?"

"Do you?"

Olivia put her hand on Natalia's back.

"Later," Altos said. "We'll discuss everything later. I was so sorry to hear about your brother." 

He drifted off to the next guests.

"I don't like 'later,'" Olivia said.

"Where's the shrimp?"

Olivia bit back a wave of nausea.

"It's so funny," Natalia said. "Making you turn green."

"Two can play at that game. We pull out of port in fifteen minutes."

Natalia's eyes widened. "Where are we going?"

"Parties are ever so much fun in international waters," Olivia said.

Natalia turned toward the shore. "Where's Rafe?"

"He's fine. He and Sam are colluding."

Natalia snorted and walked toward a staircase. "I'm going to find Patrick and say hello."

Olivia watched her go, and couldn't help but enjoy it. 

* * *

After dinner, before dancing, came the private tour. The master suite had taken Natalia's breath away. All that luxury on a boat. She'd never seen the like. Even at Billy's wedding, the ferry had a home-town, send-off feel to it. This was all decadence. This was how vampires lived on television. This was not real life. She stopped chastising Olivia for making them sneak off, just to take it all in. 

Olivia, though, was tugging her downward, closer to the waterline, to a small, private lounge empty of people.

"This is nice," Natalia said. Her jaw ached from saying it so often.

Olivia listened at a door and then pushed it open. A smaller bedroom than the suite upstairs, but no less opulent, revealed itself. Olivia drew her in and then shut the door behind them.

"Olivia Spencer. What are we doing here?"

"I've been wanting to do this all night," Olivia said, and urged Natalia back against the door, and kissed her.

"Olivia." Natalia wrapped her arms around Olivia's neck.

"I know you have, too. I could see it in your eyes."

"I can't help looking at you like that."

Olivia's roving hand found the slit in Natalia's dress, caressing bare thigh, until Natalia, freed, lifted it, wrapping it around Olivia's leg, opening herself to friction from fabric and Olivia's fingers, digging into her hip.

"You planned this," Olivia said, dipping to kiss Natalia's neck.

"I didn't--Olivia--" Natalia gasped. "I didn't wear this dress for anyone but you."

Olivia pushed harder against her. "This might be the only time we're on a yacht together."

"I know."

Olivia sucked Natalia's ear between her teeth, toying with the earring. Natalia clawed at her shoulders.

"There's a nice bed over there," Olivia said.

"That's someone else's bed. We can't--" Natalia rocked against Olivia.

"Okay."

Natalia tangled her hands in Olivia's hair and tugged her into a kiss, hard and hungry, lasting until her knees were weak and she was sagging against the door. Her lips were swollen. Her dress, she was sure, was torn. Her makeup was smeared on Olivia's cheek.

Olivia kissed her mouth once more, and then her throat.

Natalia gathered up her strength and concentration and balance and traced Olivia's sides, and then found the button of her slacks. Olivia squirmed against her.

"Olivia."

Olivia panted against her ear.

Natalia squeezed her eyes shut, jerking down the zipper, and sliding inside. She found Olivia, all heat and wetness rushing toward her, trying to surround her. She sought in return, stroking, moving deeper. Olivia trembled violently, no speech left, just the shuddering Natalia coaxed from her, held in her hand.

Then one word, because Natalia had been enjoying herself, had been exploring and teasing and loved when Olivia was reduced to nothing but falling apart in her arms.

"Please."

Natalia twisted, lifting. Olivia pounded the door beside Natalia's head. The jerks of her hips shook them both, shook the door, and then that shaky unraveling, starting at Natalia's fingertips, moving outward, heralded Olivia's orgasm. Olivia leaned against Natalia, breathing heavily, shifting to escape her fingers. Natalia hugged her close.

Olivia licked her cheek.

Natalia opened her eyes. "Olivia."

"Sex on a boat. Good times." Olivia sank to her knees.

"People are probably looking for us."

Olivia kissed Natalia's stomach, through the gown. Natalia stroked her hair.

"Let them wait," Olivia said.

Natalia obligingly turned to liquid as Olivia lifted her bare thigh over her shoulder, as she slipped below the gown to kiss her leg, and then her hip, and then, only when Natalia's grip tightened in her hair, the very center of her. She had been waiting all her life for this kiss. Would wait and wait forever.

"Olivia."

Olivia already knew all her secrets; the way she tensed when Olivia's tongue brushed that certain spot; the way she arched when Olivia's hand slid over her ass. She offered herself, as wanton as the dress, as wanton as the boat. She felt no shame, taking the moment of grace that was given. She moved against Olivia's mouth, wanting, urging, until Olivia pinned her hips the door.

"Don't fall," Olivia said, and kissed her.

Natalia nearly screamed. She didn't care who heard her. Olivia loved her. Olivia could do this to her. Bliss came. And went again. 

Olivia smiled as she rose to kiss her. 

Natalia nipped Olivia's lips. "I love you," she said.

"I think the whole boat heard."

"Good."

Olivia caught Natalia's hand and squeezed. "We should--"

Natalia held her close. "One more minute. With you."

* * *

In the common room, they found Altos. He smiled graciously. "There you are. I'm so glad we can be alone. Wouldn't want anyone to make a scene."

Olivia pursed her lips. Her stomach tied itself in knots. But she wasn't going to let herself be afraid. Not of him.

"I think it's time to talk."

"So talk."

"You're finally in a position to negotiate," Altos said.

"I was always in a position to negotiate. You're the one who made me play this stupid game. You've taunted me for a week. Had your fill?" Her voice rose.

Natalia took her hand, but stayed silent.

Altos had a sickening smile. "I had to be sure you were in the right frame of mind to consider my offer. So here it is. If you sign one piece of paper, it will all go away."

"What do you want, my soul?" He couldn't have that. It wasn't hers to give anymore. Anything else. He could have anything else.

Altos opened a briefcase. "Your parents' house. Which you inherited upon their death."

"My house? All this for a stupid little--Why?" Olivia's grip tightened on Natalia's hand. She tried to conjure the house up in memory but could only remember a dresser here, a view from a window there. Fragments. She couldn't picture it through the haze.

"Development deal," Altos said, ignoring the way she squinted. 

"Why didn't you--why even bother? Just do what you want with it."

"Too many people watching. Too much involvement from 'activists' who won't give us any money if we exploit the little people. All this talk of colonialism. Like you. You and Sam. Little poor children. But they have money to give. And we want it."

Olivia raised her eyebrows.

Altos said, "I am tired of--I am so tired. All this. Tired of being left out. Tired of being all title and no money. Unlike you. All money and no… breeding. Tired of having missed out on the Empire. Born too late." 

"To be Imperial scum?" 

Her own words hurt her. Natalia was the first person she'd given to, instead of taken from. Except for a house. And diamonds. And a husband. She shivered. There was a roaring in her ears. Natalia rubbed her fingers, moving closer. Olivia looked at her, and found wide and dark eyes, expectant.

Natalia knew she wasn't a hero. Natalia just didn't want her to pass out. Olivia squared her shoulders. 

"People can't just marry into it anymore." He glanced at Natalia. "But this is my chance, Olivia. I'm not going to let a single thing take it away from me. I deserve it. Just as much as you do. More." 

Houses. Always houses. Real estate was not a good market for her. "Why didn't you just email? Like I care about this island. Not anymore. It's all yours, Altos."

"We did try to buy the land. For several years. We sent letters, which you ignored--Except for the one you wrote 'Fuck off I'll never sell' on and sent back to us. We had our lawyers call. We attempted to forge the deed, finally. But then Jonathan Randall came with his daughter to stay."

Olivia exhaled.

"To play house? Or to check things out? He left after several months, but… We knew you would never sell if Jonathan Randall wanted to raise his family here."

"Jonathan's just a--"

"Just a what? A prince? A tragic widower? His daughter... He could have anything he wanted. The people would be behind him. And our activists, well, Jonathan's story was exactly the kind of thing they want to preserve. What better hero than the one despised equally by the royal family and the new government? He really is practically Moses, isn't he?"

"Shit." Olivia curled her lip. 

"Olivia--"

"I would have sold everything!" He didn't want her soul, then. Not her lover or her children. Just a small house far from the beach, falling apart twenty years ago, that wouldn't be worth the taxes and the lawyers she'd have to pay if she'd sold it. 

"But you didn't," Altos said. "You didn't, Olivia, because you are a greedy piece of--"

"Hey!" Natalia interrupted.

Olivia tugged on Natalia's hand and said, "Well, you have my attention. Old friend. You want to build a casino? You want to wipe out the Spencer name? Do whatever you want."

Natalia set her jaw.

"It's all yours. Tell me where to sign." Olivia wanted to be done. She wanted to run away. 

Altos glanced between the women. "I wasn't led to believe you give up so easily." 

"I told you, I never cared. Jonathan--He was in exile. Exile, you creep. Hiding. Not living. Not here, where his--Never here."

Natalia moved closer to Olivia, but kept her gaze on Altos. "Whatever you want. I can help with the paperwork. Whatever phone calls have to be made."

Olivia turned away from both of them. "I want to get home to my daughters. I want to see Jon reunite with his. Give me an opportunity to forget San Cristobel exists and I'll take it." 

"What about... " Altos trailed off, glancing at Natalia.

"What about revenge? Are you kidding me? I couldn't begin to be bothered."

Altos turned purple.

Natalia put her hand on Olivia's waist and asked, "When can we have Sam?"

"Come to the palace at ten tomorrow morning. With your lawyers."

Natalia nodded.

Altos went upstairs.

Olivia closed her eyes. "It can't be that easy."

"That's what he seemed to think. He looked so pissed, even though he broke you, and then he bought you." Natalia said, her voice filled with disgust. 

"Yeah. Like it's the first time that's ever happened."

"No revenge? Not even a little bit?"

Olivia shook her head.

Natalia cleared her throat. "Larry Decker's still in business. So is the prison warden that let my son get beaten."

"And Billy Lewis is still alive. And Ava--Oh, Ava." Olivia sighed.

Natalia tugged at her until Olivia turned around and opened her eyes.

"Why?" Natalia asked. "Why are you all bluster and no bite?"

"Because I run away like a coward?"

Natalia made a face.

"Because I've been the other woman. I've been the target of those fantasies. And it isn't very pleasant. All those years with Richard…with Josh... They all sucked."

Natalia brought Olivia's hand closer until she could press it to her own cheek.

Olivia smiled. "I have better things to do."

"We're going to get him back."

Olivia caressed Natalia's cheek. "And we're going to go home."

* * *

Reva didn't get up from the rocking chair when Jonathan got out of the truck, but she was smiling radiantly. Sarah had been holding her hand. She let go and ran toward Jonathan.

"Daddy!"

"Hi," he said, picking her up. "Hi." The flights had been rough, and long, and sleepless. But Josh had been there at the airport to lead him to Cross Creek. 

Josh clapped Jonathan on the shoulder. Jonathan breathed in, holding Sarah close. "Where are Lizzie and Bill?"

"Back in town. They drove Sarah up as soon--as soon as we heard. But she's yours."

"Mine." 

Sarah squirmed until Jonathan put her down.

"Breakfast in a half hour," Josh said, going inside the house.

Jonathan settled next to Reva on the porch. "Hi, Mom," he said.

"Hello, Jonathan," Reva said, reaching for his hair. 

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

 

"Hurry up already," Olivia said, sitting across from Altos' desk. "I even brought a pen."

Altos had brought not only the papers but Sam, sitting handcuffed in a side chair, looking unhappy. 

Patrick stood next to Altos. Natalia stared at him. Olivia recognized the look in Natalia's eyes. She'd once had that gaze turned on her. Hatred.

"Your little plan didn't work," Natalia said.

Patrick shook his head.

Natalia rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Maybe some day someone will just genuinely like me."

"I do," Olivia said.

Natalia smiled.

"That was a set-up, wasn't it?"

"Can we get on with this?" Altos asked.

"I brought a pen."

Sam shifted in his chair. "What's it costing you, Liv?"

"The house."

Sam straightened. "The house I grew up in? My house? With my sisters?"

"For your freedom."

"Olivia, you can't--"

Olivia signed the papers Altos thrust in front of her.

"Jesus, Olivia." Sam turned to Altos. "Is this all a game? Are you bored?"

Altos said nothing, but got up and walked out.

Patrick said, "It's just about money. It always is. Surely you understand that." His gaze was on Natalia.

"You think they're going to get their little development--on my house--once I post this? News gets out!" Sam shouted as Patrick followed Altos out.

"It's never about money," Olivia said.

Sam stood as a guard came in and unlocked his cuffs. "You're free to go."

"Hey, you're Lucas, aren't you?" Natalia said, as the guard went toward the door.

Lucas stopped.

"Jonathan said you were his favorite. He got you something."

"He got him something?" Olivia asked, as Natalia went to her purse. Natalia handed Lucas a box. 

"What is it?" Olivia asked.

"It's from Jonathan."

Lucas glanced between them, then left through the door that led to the airstrip. 

Sam rubbed his wrists. "Let's have brunch."

"On the ship? It leaves at noon," Olivia said. "Rafe's already aboard."

Sam frowned. "I can't, Olivia."

"Sam." Olivia felt something rise in her chest, around her heart. 

"I did what you wanted, sis. I always do."

"But--"

Sam hung his head. "I have to go back to my own life."

Natalia took his arm. "Come home, Sam. Meet Francesca. She's your niece. See the farmhouse."

"I will. I'll come. The next big holiday. Fourth of July? But--I can't. I have to work through this."

Olivia, torn between screaming at him and wanting to hold him so he couldn't get away, merely held still as he kissed her, and then Natalia, and slipped through the door.

"Do I have to rip my heart out to get you to come back, Sam?" Olivia asked.

"The next holiday is Easter," Natalia murmured, leaning against Olivia's shoulder.

Olivia tried to smile. "Want to go on a cruise with me?"

* * * 

Rafe leaned against the railing, looking west. Toward home. The sun was hours from setting, but San Cristobel was out of sight. By morning the ship would be docked in Miami. By tomorrow night he'd be back in Springfield. In February. He'd stripped down to his swim trunks as soon as he'd gotten aboard. He liked the sun. Like it was in his blood, or something.

Natalia sat in a lounge chair nearby. Olivia brought her a mai tai.

"Rafe," Olivia said. "You'll have to dress for dinner."

"Not if I go to the pizza bar."

Olivia groaned as she sat next to Natalia. "No more pizza."

Rafe grinned. "There's ice cream."

"Yes, ice cream," Natalia said. "We've all earned it."

"I feel like I haven't really done anything. I just… came along," Olivia said.

"It doesn't matter," Rafe said. 

Natalia nodded. "Everything's the way it should be."

Olivia rolled her eyes.

"Yo, Raphael," someone called from the upper deck. "Basketball?"

"I'll be right there," Rafe called. 

"How do you do that?" Olivia asked. "We've been here an hour."

"How do you do it?" he asked.

"With sex."

Natalia sighed.

Rafe shrugged. "I just have my mother's smile." He bounded toward the stairs.

"I never thought I'd see that," Natalia said.

"What, his mother's smile?"

Natalia shook her head. "Him, happy. He was a happy kid when he was little. My baby. Never any trouble." She closed her eyes. "But by the time he was a teenager…"

"He was the teenager we all knew and loved."

"And then the day he joined the Army, I just knew he'd get killed. Killed before he came back to me. Before he smiled like that again."

Olivia took Natalia's hand. 

"But here he is. Thank you, Olivia."

"I didn't do anything."

"You never gave up on him."

"I knew you'd only be happy if he was. It was all part of my plan."

"Like you have plans."

Olivia smiled.

"He has his own suite, right?" Natalia asked.

"He just gets a room, but yes. With a porthole and everything."

Natalia chuckled. "So we have… our own suite."

"Yes."

"And we can get ice cream?" 

"As much as you want."

Natalia got up and tugged Olivia's hand. "I don't want to get dressed for dinner."

* * *

"What do you want me to do?" Olivia asked. She'd taken a nap, letting her sorrows drain out of her. Sam leaving. Her home gone. Natalia had been there, stroking her hair, when she'd woken up.

She'd called Emma and Ava, feeling another twinge of regret that Sam wasn't coming home to them, too. But the farmhouse and her family were waiting and Natalia's fingers against her scalp felt very good. She reluctantly rolled to her feet and Natalia followed, standing by the bed.

Natalia gave her a push. "I want you to shower."

"And then what?"

"Then you'll be naked."

"I should get naked first. There really isn't much room in there," Olivia said.

Natalia nodded. She moved closer, reaching for the hem of Olivia's shirt.

Olivia's blood began to vibrate with proximity and expectation. "I could strip for you," she said, twisting away.

"Let me."

"Okay."

"Something about being so close to you…" Natalia grabbed her hem and Olivia let Natalia pull the shirt over her head. "And getting to see you…" Natalia stroked Olivia's sides.

Olivia shivered. Her head was spinning. Natalia unclasped her bra and immediately Olivia wanted Natalia's hands on her breasts. She leaned forward. Natalia hugged her, settling hands at the small of her back, instead. But that was okay because Natalia's breasts pressed into hers. Olivia kissed her. Ice cream and warmth and happiness.

Natalia kissed her back while unzipping her pants, but broke away to push them off Olivia's hips, along with her underwear. Olivia held her breath. Natalia, though, didn't kneel, just pushed them past her thighs. Olivia sighed and kicked them off.

"Shower," Natalia said.

Olivia stepped daintily up into the bathroom pod. "When I get out, will you be naked?"

Natalia smiled. "No."

Olivia sealed herself in the bathroom and turned on the water. She could barely stand to bathe, buzzing with anticipation. Sliding her hands over her own body, she had to fight the urge to stray. Heat was already rising and she had no idea what Natalia was planning.

After a year, after a baby, Natalia's desire still felt like a miracle. A dream that had started upon their first kiss. _Everyone thinks we're gay. Oh God. Now I'm part of that everybody. Their leader._ Whatever Natalia had planned, she was up for it. Trusting that had never led her wrong.

She smiled and shut off the water and dried herself off as best she could. She pulled back her hair. Natalia liked the way the damp tendrils whipped across her skin. She nearly wobbled as she stepped back onto carpet.

Natalia was out on the balcony. Olivia wrapped herself in the bathrobe Natalia left for her on the bed and went out, leaving the door open. The smell of the ocean greeted her. 

"I like this better than San Cristobel," Olivia said.

"Me too. I've never been on a cruise. But I'm surprised you don't think they're tacky."

"At the moment, they're a nice overnight trip to the mainland that doesn't involve a Cessna."

Natalia nodded. She'd changed into a flowing print top and jeans--her loose gardening jeans that Olivia couldn't believe she'd brought. 

"I can't believe you brought those."

"I brought everything," Natalia said.

"Everything…" Olivia looked away from the ocean and to where Natalia sat in a deck chair. The ocean in front of them was open and expansive, but on either side there were thick privacy walls. Olivia felt like they were the only two people on a ship that held a thousand. 

Olivia bent down to kiss her. Natalia deepened the kiss, clutching her robe, pulling her closer until Olivia found herself on her knees with Natalia's hands on her bare shoulders.

"You're so beautiful," Natalia said, pushing the robe away.

"Natalia." Heat rose to Olivia's cheeks.

"No one can see us. And you are."

"I am?"

Natalia smiled. "You know you're beautiful." 

Olivia took off the robe and settled it under her knees. She ran her hands along Natalia's calves, hoping that removing the jeans was part of Natalia's plan. 

Natalia's breath caught. 

Olivia grinned, leaning forward to kiss a denim-clad knee. Natalia's hand cupped her cheek.

"I don't know how you turn me on so fast," Natalia said.

"I'm Olivia Spencer."

Natalia stroked her ear. "I just want to go back inside and get this over with."

"You want to get this over with?"

Natalia flushed, tossing her hair back. "You know what I mean."

"What did you want to do before I came out here and so cruelly distracted you?"

"You did cruelly distract me…" Natalia tugged gently on her chin until Olivia rose up and kissed her. 

"I do my best." 

She had showered but Natalia had not and as they stood together and moved into an embrace, Olivia caught the scent of San Cristobel lingering on Natalia's skin. In her hair. Salt and loam and ocean. She kissed Natalia's neck.

Natalia hummed appreciatively.

"I will give you my entire fortune if you get undressed."

Natalia turned out of the embrace. "Come inside."

In the bedroom, Olivia slipped into bed, shivering at the cool sheets on her naked body, and watched Natalia leave behind clothes before joining her. Olivia reached out for her, stroked arms and breasts and curves. Kissed her. Touched her.

Natalia, eyes closed, smiled. "You saved the world."

Olivia snorted. "Are you my prize?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

Natalia stretched languidly, then propped herself up on her elbow. "Since I walked out of my world and into yours."

Olivia raised her eyebrows.

"I think yours... is better," Natalia said. 

"It is now."

Natalia smiled.

Olivia kissed her. "Sort of a Catch-22 thing."

"It works. It only works with you."

Olivia nodded. She leaned back as Natalia sat up and then moved over her, settling. 

"Hi," Olivia said.

Natalia kissed her. Lingered. Didn't stop. 

Olivia's hands roved over Natalia's hips, moving against her. Natalia's belly, pressing into her. Olivia stroked up until she reached Natalia's breasts, and lingered, groaning against the sweat and Natalia's lips on her shoulder. 

After a lifetime of chests, smooth or hairy, young or old, Alan's decrepit form or Bill's David-like perfection, the body meant so little to her. Where to push, what felt good, what expressions she had to make. The person mattered. What she could get from the person mattered. 

Natalia shifted, kissing her neck. Olivia retreated from her breasts in order to tangle her fingers in long, wild hair. She grazed Natalia's scalp and Natalia squirmed. Natalia's body mattered. Just as much as her soul, as her heart. Olivia tugged until Natalia lifted her head and met her gaze.

"I've never met anyone like you," Olivia said.

Natalia smiled, and then parted her lips. Dampened them. Held back by Olivia's grip, she stilled her hips, simply pressing down. 

"Why not?" Natalia asked.

"Why…" Olivia hadn't anticipated the question. Not in the middle of this. She'd told Natalia that she was straight. But she hadn't been dead. She hadn't been stupid. She furrowed her brow and Natalia, propped on her elbows, smoothed it. "I was always afraid… that I'd like it. I had enough problems."

Unbidden, images came to her mind. Feelings. Cassie Winslow, who never would have--Richard and Edmund crept in, and San Cristobel, permeating and clouding her mind. And Harley--she had really messed that up. Best not to think of that with Natalia on top of her.

"It's complicated," she said, and Natalia's gaze widened, and softened, taking her in. 

Olivia arched up to kiss her and then rolled them until she was on top of Natalia, still gazing into her eyes. 

"It's you. You're perfect," Olivia said.

"I don't know about that."

"Trust me." Olivia kissed her and then moved lower, nuzzling her breasts, and then her stomach.

"I trust you." 

Olivia smiled. She bent her head to Natalia, inhaling her scent. Tasting. This is where she belonged, among the folds and the heat and the core of Natalia. Where she could go inside, or just let her senses be overwhelmed, and bring Natalia along with her. A sweep of her tongue and Natalia groaned, offering even more of herself to Olivia. It was enough. 

It was more than enough.

Natalia slid her heel along Olivia's side. "I'm glad," she said.

Olivia lifted her head. Natalia pushed it back down. Olivia smiled and closed her eyes. Natalia's hand didn't leave, guiding her subtlety, barely pressing.

"I'm glad you avoided the question, all those years. I would have been unbearably jealous."

"I was saving myself," Olivia said, nipping at Natalia's thigh.

Natalia laughed. "Sure. You were saving yourself… Olivia… " She breathed in as Olivia's mouth settled on her again. "Olivia, you can do anything you want to me. And it… I just want you to know, it will never be enough."

Olivia slid two fingers into her. 

Natalia shuddered, and pulled at her hair, and succumbed. 

* * * 

"Anything?" Olivia asked, sprawling lazily on the bed. She'd showered again while Natalia dozed, plotting, and she was still naked. 

Natalia raised her eyebrows.

"You said I could do anything…"

Natalia blushed. "You know that."

"Just checking."

Natalia nodded.

Olivia sat up. "Okay. Go shower. Let's go to dinner. One of those fancy ones that bars Rafe."

"That's your definition of 'anything'?"

"I'm starving. We have an eight o'clock seating."

Natalia frowned.

Olivia pushed at her hip. "Go."

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

"And so, he said…" Olivia gestured. The whole table was laughing with her.

Natalia had heard the story before, adapted for the San Cristobel crowd, and she let herself sit back. When Olivia wasn't speaking, she was giving Natalia sultry glances. Natalia wasn't privy to Olivia's plans, but they excited her and made her palms sweat. She held them in her lap and smiled politely. Olivia gave her another smoldering look. Natalia reached for her water and nearly spilled it.

They weren't sitting at the captain's table, but three tables away. The captain had come to speak to Olivia, and kiss her cheek. Olivia wore loose black slacks and a pale pink dress shirt--two parts of a suit, the third draped over the back of the chair. Natalia had opted for the dress she'd worn at the palace party--had it only been a few days ago? 

Power… People skills… Natalia frowned slightly, remembering the conversation with Rafe out on the sun deck. But tonight, those seductive looks were all for her. Only for her. She squeezed Olivia's thigh as the second course came, and the dinner conversation shifted.

"I read an editorial this morning, sounds like someone on that island we were just on--"

"San Cristobel," Natalia supplied.

Harold, who'd introduced himself as a pro-golfer, nodded. "There was an attempted coup. I may be overdramatic, but the prime minister has been away, and it was really quite a sordid tale of a land grab and twisted finances."

"And a kidnapping," Olivia said.

Harold squinted. "They implied that, but it seemed so crazy. I mean, we were just there."

Olivia nodded.

"I question having cruise lines involved with these island despots. As a tourist, I'm not so thrilled at my money going to this kind of corruption."

Natalia glanced at Olivia, who only kept nodding. Natalia turned to Harold. "But it's improved the individual lives of locals who work with or on the ships, or who have shops. It takes away some of their isolation."

"I suppose," Harold said. "Which comes first, the jobs or the stable government? Can one exist without the other?"

Natalia shrugged and smiled.

Olivia changed the subject, asking Harold which courses he'd played on his vacation.

* * * 

Natalia reached for Olivia's hand as the elevator. Olivia gave her a smile.

"Why didn't you speak up? When they were talking about the cruise ships at San Cristobel?" Natalia asked.

Olivia exhaled, brushing her hair back with her free hand. They were alone in the elevator, though their stop was seconds away. "What you said, it was lovely, Natalia, but it's not true. People like Alan, like Edmund… like me, we wanted to make money. Money at the top."

"But…"

"Even if we gave people jobs or did improvement projects--like Altos is doing now--it was to make money. Nothing else. I never even thought…"

The elevator doors opened. Natalia gently led her into the hallway. Outside their suite door, Olivia stopped.

"Never thought what?" Natalia asked.

"About what would really happen. Unless it made a good sound byte. To the normal, every day people. To San Cristobel. People like my parents. People like you."

Natalia smiled. "It wasn't such a bad place."

"It really, really is, Natalia."

"Think about Lucas. And Robert."

Olivia exhaled. "It's not that simple."

Natalia unlocked the door and they slipped inside. "It's not that complex, either."

"You're right. Anyway, I was barely paying attention. I had other things on my mind."

"Yes? Like what?" Natalia cupped Olivia's face in her hands.

"You're distracting, Natalia Rivera."

"Me?"

Olivia kissed the corner of her mouth. "And pretty." 

Natalia smiled.

"And," Olivia said, stepping back and pulling Natalia toward the balcony. "Unobservant."

"What?"

Outside, it was still warm even though night had fallen. Stars filled the sky. In the distance music played--their own upper decks, and another cruise ship far in the distance, cheerfully partying toward Miami, moving through the black water. 

Natalia caught her breath. When she could tear herself away from the view, she found Olivia on her knees, reaching under her dress. 

"Hey."

Olivia didn't glance up, but drew Natalia's panties down. Natalia was sorry she hadn't worn hose, to feel it peel off her skin. Olivia kissed her bare thigh, and then rose, tossing the panties through the open door into the suite.

Natalia met her gaze.

"Unobservant," Olivia said. She stood, moving closer, sliding the fabric of the gown up Natalia's hips.

Natalia shivered.

"And so trusting," Olivia said, moving higher.

Natalia smiled. "Always."

Olivia kissed her. Natalia melted against the warm touch and the way Olivia's body molded against hers, pressing her to the railing. Natalia could feel the ocean breeze against her back, and her neck, wherever she was uncovered by Olivia.

And something that wasn't Olivia.

"Olivia, wait." She squeezed Olivia's shoulders, turning her lips from deepening kisses.

Olivia laughed near her ear.

Natalia cautiously moved a thigh between Olivia's legs. Something protruded, pressing into her leg. She had brought it, but Olivia had put it on. Her favorite, the purple silicone that curved just so at the end, that felt just right. Not that she had dared expect it, back when she had packed. 

Olivia, not waiting, had pushed her gown over her waist and was rubbing Natalia's thigh.

"As romantic as the balcony is…" Olivia tested the railing, and then turned them, backing Natalia against the wall by their sliding glass doors.

"You and walls," Natalia said.

"Oh, of course, it's me and walls. That's the only explanation."

Natalia grinned quickly. "You've been wearing that the whole time?"

"The whole time."

"Why did we have to go to dinner?"

"Fuel. Hydration."

"With those people?"

"To appreciate what we have?"

Natalia brought Olivia into her embrace, sighing as Olivia's face tucked into her neck. She didn't need the reminder that Olivia was all she craved in the world. But Olivia's affirmation was nice. Olivia's arms were nice. And Olivia's plan…

"You wanted something from me?" Natalia asked, biting her lip.

"Yes," Olivia said, kissing her neck.

"Then… take what you want."

* * *

Olivia's week had been unsettling. Her lovemaking had been driven by her need for reassurance, for connection, for safety. Natalia had surrounded her and taken care of her, and had needed the same from her, but now Olivia felt more in control. She felt strong. She felt…

Lightheaded, as Natalia opened her slacks and pulled the dildo out into the open, and then covered it with her hand.

"Wait," Olivia said. She dug in her pocket and pulled out the packet of lube. 

"We don't need that," Natalia said.

"Just to start." She wanted to slide into Natalia, to see the way each jerk of her hips changed Natalia's face, to feel Natalia's fingers digging into her shoulders. She wanted to fuck Natalia like this. And she could have anything she wanted. 

There had been so many walls, so many shapes and sizes. So many kisses. She tore the packet and spread the lube over the silicone, her fingers tangling with Natalia's. Natalia's eagerness was a relief, an exclamation, and Olivia, lifting Natalia's knee, feeling it wrap around her waist as she moved her hand down, finding Natalia, felt a surge of pure joy.

"Olivia." 

Natalia pulled Olivia down for a kiss as Olivia slid inside her. She braced her foot against a deck table, opening herself, moving her hips before Olivia was even settled. Their teeth clattered. Olivia laughed and drew back, concentrating on her thrusts, on the way her wetness and Natalia's seemed to bring them together. Natalia had been right about that. She'd ached for this. She covered Natalia's breast, through the dress. Natalia moaned. Her movements quickened. Her hips twisted this way and that.

Olivia grunted in frustration. The dildo wasn't quite hitting all the right places, and wasn't quite staying in. Tools. So unreliable.

Natalia reached for her hip, and yanked the straps tighter. 

"Oh," Olivia said.

"You need my help."

"Yes, I--"

Natalia slid to her knees. The dildo was warm and slick with her own scent. She gripped it, twisting. "Needs some readjusting."

"Sure," Olivia said.

"Let me help."

"Anything you want."

Natalia gripped the leather harness and then took the shaft into her mouth, closing her eyes.

Olivia gasped. She held onto the wall above them. "What's it… like?" The word taste would not come to her lips.

Natalia took her time withdrawing, her lips dragging, leaving a trail of wetness until her tongue--

"Oh, God," Olivia said.

"Like us," Natalia said, then taking the dildo into her mouth again.

Olivia buried a hand in Natalia's hair, trying not to roll her hips as the sucking sounds reached her. 

"Natalia."

"Mmm."

"Let's go inside."

Natalia sat back, chuckling as Olivia offered her hands to pull her up. "What about the wall?"

"Fuck the wall." 

Natalia pursed her lips. 

Olivia guided Natalia into the bedroom, and then paused, wondering what to do first. There was the matter of Natalia's dress, and Natalia's kisses, and turning down the bed, and undressing herself. Natalia gave her a look and moved to the bed.

Olivia used the reprieve to pull off her shirt and leave her bra on the floor. Pushing down her slacks made her feel sillier, but already covered in a sheen of sweat, and Natalia's smell, she threw her shoulders back and gave Natalia a dazzling smile.

Natalia froze. She'd been reaching behind herself for the zipper to her gown. Her gaze traveled up and down Olivia's body.

"Turn around," Olivia said.

Natalia turned around.

Olivia unzipped Natalia's dress, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and then her neck as the fabric dropped to the floor.

"Olivia…"

"I'll buy you a new one." 

Natalia turned around, smiling.

Olivia's breath caught. She nudged Natalia backward, onto the bed. Natalia sprawled, but looked concerned as Olivia knelt. 

"We're doing this the old-fashioned way," Olivia said.

"Your heart, Olivia."

"My heart?" Olivia leaned over Natalia, meeting her gaze.

Natalia brought her down for a kiss. Olivia closed her eyes. Natalia tried to draw her down to the side, but Olivia resisted. She took Natalia's hand, bringing it between them. 

"Help me," Olivia said.

Natalia shifted, helping drawing Olivia into her. She bent her knees and Olivia settled onto her forearms, and met Natalia's eyes, and thrust. Just once.

"God." Natalia arched against her, closing her eyes.

"Stay with me," Olivia said. 

"Mm?"

"I want to…" Olivia thrust again and Natalia's face contorted in pleasure as she groped for Olivia. "That," Olivia said.

Natalia gasped. "Only if you, um."

Olivia rocked into her steadily, pushing with her hips, pulling with her arms. The base of the dildo rubbed perfectly against her. Natalia clutched her with arms and legs and torso and kisses along her jaw. 

"What?" she asked, panting too much to form a full sentence. She wanted to imagine Natalia felt what she felt as they moved together. Straining. 

"You have to come… while fucking me. First."

Olivia pushed herself up, straightening her arms, to peer down at Natalia. Natalia squeaked as the position pushed harder into her. 

"I don't think that's going to be a problem," Olivia said.

Natalia smiled.

Olivia resumed rocking. "Unless you come first."

"I have restraint." Natalia bit her lip. 

Olivia kissed her cheek and then her ear. "You can resist me?"

Natalia whimpered. "Olivia."

Olivia nipped her shoulder and groaned as Natalia grabbed her hip, urging her to quicken her thrusts.

"Shut up," Natalia said.

Olivia gave herself over to the exquisite sensations, nearly purring as Natalia tightened her grip. Sweat tickled her. She captured Natalia's lips in a heady kiss, knowing it would take only one more moment of pressure--there. She groaned into the kiss as she stilled her hips, suspended in the orgasm, holding onto it, letting Natalia hold onto her. Then she was shuddering and gasping. Her thrusts resumed. The strength it took from her…

"Olivia." Natalia tugged at her hair until she met Natalia's gaze. Natalia's skin was flushed, her breasts heaved with each breath, pressing into Olivia's. Olivia wanted to kiss them. Made a vow that she would before the night was out. But for now she acquiesced to Natalia's breathed request. "Hold me."

Olivia sank down onto Natalia. She worked her arms under Natalia's back, hugging her. Natalia's hips moved of their own accord, pushing up against Olivia's slower, gentler rocking. Olivia buried her face in Natalia's hair, let Natalia breathe against her ear, and leave bruises on her back, and hook her calves over Olivia's. Natalia brought her ever--closer until she was coming. The vibration that started under Olivia rippled through her body, too.

Natalia whispered a prayer into her ear. 

Olivia closed her eyes. 

* * * 

Rafe shaded his eyes, looking at the Miami skyline. Shouldn't he be looking west? But the sun was blazing all around them. 

"Thank you for no Cessna," Natalia said.

Olivia grunted and poured herself orange juice. She wore thick sunglasses and a robe over what Rafe guessed were unwashed jeans and his mother's camisole. 

"Yeah, but it took all night instead of a couple of hours."

"And didn't require Xanax."

Olivia tilted her head.

"What?" Rafe asked.

Natalia ate a grape.

"Your father… He had a problem with pills. A serious one. Keep that in mind, since you're just like him," Olivia said.

Natalia rubbed her jaw. 

Rafe laughed. "Man, pills, philandering… Is there anything good about my father?"

"His hair," Natalia said.

Olivia nodded. "Definitely his hair."

Rafe reached over to Natalia's plate and picked up a handful of grapes and after hesitant consideration, tossed them at the women. 

* * * 

"Home sweet home." Natalia set down lemonade and then sat next to Olivia on the bench. She looked out at their lawn. 

"Finally."

"I should mention, Olivia, that I'm quitting my job," Natalia said.

"Really?" Olivia smiled.

"Not so fast. I know what you're thinking. I'm quitting my job and coming back to the Beacon."

"The Beacon. Why don't you stay home? Raise our girls?"

Natalia shook her head. "This trip has convinced me, Olivia. Our lives are together. Each part of them. I want to be closer to you. I want to help you build your empires. Your dreams. My dreams."

Olivia looked away and nodded.

Natalia smiled. "Jonathan can help."

"You'd let him? I mean, that much? He's a... He's just like me, Natalia."

"Olivia. I know he's a good father. Like you're a good mother. And he's part of our family."

"Don't tell Reva."

Natalia smiled.

"It'll be okay. The crazy is all in the women's side. Reva included."

Natalia took Olivia's hand.

Olivia squeezed. "We could both quit. Open a fruit stand."

"Not yet."

"Okay. Not yet."

"But someday. This town is dying, Olivia," Natalia said, looking out at the farmland. "Even Main Street…when I got here, it was a totally different place."

"Maybe we'll be the last people to ever live here, then. With our luxury thread count and our massages and room service." 

"And you're happy?"

"I'm happy." Olivia kissed Natalia's hair.

"Me too. We'll send Francesca off to college and we'll retire."

"Perfect. I'll be 65, why not?"

"Perfect."

"I sold my island villa, though. They're going to pave paradise."

Natalia curled her lip. "Maybe we'll retire right here, then."

"Okay." Olivia closed her eyes and held Natalia close. "Okay."

END


End file.
